


A Child's Intuition

by 100percentfluffster



Series: Begin Again Bunker Family [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Asexual Relationship, Bunker Feels, Fluff, Grace Siphoning, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Non-Sexual Age Play, Supportive Castiel, Supportive Charlie and Kevin, Supportive Crowley, Supportive Gabriel, mentions of child abuse, part of a series, small amounts of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:45:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100percentfluffster/pseuds/100percentfluffster
Summary: The second stage of the soul bond between Castiel and Dean is underway. Castiel must channel his grace into Dean's soul. Gabriel and the rest of the Bunker Family will do everything to support them in their journey. But outside interference could spell the downfall to their plans. And a friendly face may grace the halls of the bunker and bring back some painful memories for young Dean.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, It's been a long time since I've posted on this series, but I've gotten some support and requests to continue this story. I don't think there's enough non sexual age play and healthy relationship fics out there, so I want to deliver what I can.   
> This chapter is really short, but it's more like a preface or introduction. It's setting the stage as well as jumpstarting my writing for this section. This is the first step in holding myself accountable!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next stage of the soul bond is underway but the bunker has some surprise guests on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!   
> I am back to finish this part of the series, but I have rearranged and edited the entire story. So I condensed chapters together to make it have more of the same pacing as the part before this one, as well as to tie together some loose ends with the plot. Sorry if you didn't want to reread the whole thing again, but I didn't change much, so if you want to just head to the second to last chapter and pick up where you left off.

Castiel rolls his shoulders back and steps away from Dean’s bed. Gabriel supports his brother as his steps falter, and they both look down at Dean. His skin is glowing slightly as the grace sinks into his body and combines with his blood. The angel blood that Castiel and Gabriel had him drink before, allowing the grace to exist in his human body. 

Gabriel helps Castiel to a chair, and the younger angel collapses into it. His chest moves harshly as he tries to breathe through the exhaustion that’s pulling at his limbs. The process of pouring his grace into Dean leaving him shaken. 

“You still with me, Cassie?” Gabriel asks with a teasing tone. Castiel can hear the darker tones of concern in his kin’s voice. 

“Yes. That was...more taxing than I had expected,” Castiel replies. 

Both sets of angelic eyes return to the bed and they watch in awed fascination as Dean’s soul flashes and curls around the darker grace that is flowing through his body. Castiel focuses on the steady rhythm the human’s heart continues to tap out. His body looking too still for the angel’s comfort. 

Gabriel asks, “So now we just...wait?”

Castiel shrugs his shoulders, “You know as well as I, that everything depends upon the individual. This could be the only session he needs, or he could need more over several weeks.”

“I know,” Gabriel sighs. “I just don’t want to wait. I prefer cooking him breakfast and watching movies to standing at the end of his bed and staring at him. Though you must be pretty used to that, huh? You did it for years. Gotta say, the worst form of flirting I’ve ever seen.”

Castiel scowls, but his muscles are tired and the expression falls apart before it’s fully formed. “Well, it worked.” 

Gabriel chuckles in happy surprise, “Touche, brother.”

They lapse into silence and watch the flowing tendrils of grace root themselves into Dean’s being. Gabriel moves to the side of the bed again after a few minutes and turns Dean’s arm over gently. He arranges the limb on top of the blanket with the Mark of Cain clearly visible. It’s pulsing a dull brownish red, similar to rust, but it’s not hot to the touch and Dean’s soul isn’t reacting like he’s in any real pain. Both angels can feel some of the tension in their bodies ease away at the sight. 

“Did Crowley say when he was coming back?” Gabriel asks. 

“I told him I’d call when Dean woke up. He has a present for him,” Castiel replies, a not so small amount of suspicion laced into his voice. 

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at his brother and chuckles, “That could mean so many things.” 

Castiel hums his agreement as his eyes fall closed. He can feel sleep pulling at his grace despite his divine constitution. It’s a strange feeling, a foreign one to him. He’s been human before, has needed sleep and food to survive, so he recognizes the sensation, but it feels deeper this time. It’s not a physical need, but rather a pull on his grace for release. 

“Looks like you need to charge up those angel batteries, Cassie,” Gabriel says. His tone is light but his eyes are intent as they study Castiel’s slumped figure. When Castiel just nods his agreement Gabriel’s concern rises, but he doesn’t say anything. He snaps his fingers and another bed appears on the other side of the room, a few fluffy blankets and pillows littering its surface. “Go on then. This is a strain that very few angels ever have to go through. We need to make sure you’re kept at peak health.” When the archangel sees his brother’s mouth open to argue he adds, “For Dean’s sake.” He smirks as Castiel snaps his mouth shut and just stands on shaky legs. 

Castiel sighs a moment later as his body sinks into the soft mattress. The true comfort of a good bed after a long day’s work is a feeling he’s come to savor since coming in close contact to humans. Having both lived as one and seen the deep satisfaction that his friends gain from it. His eyes are itchy with the need for sleep and the angel is unconscious within a minute of lying down on the bed. 

A couple of hours pass in peace as Gabriel stands watch over the two most important people in his life. It brings a small glowing warmth to his chest to see their relaxed faces and knowing that they are happy and safe. He experiences a moment of pure gratitude to the older Winchester for bringing him this ragtag family of hunters and company. He can’t imagine life without Dean and Castiel and Charlie and Kevin. Without the bunker. Without  _ all of it _ . For so long he’d been hiding away from his angelic family, hating their squabbling, desperate for them to stop throwing blame and violence around heaven. And now he’s surrounded by a family of his own choosing. 

He starts in place as a prayer rolls through his mind. The voice is familiar but holds the smallest hints of panic. His eyes flick between Castiel and Dean and he bites his lip in uncertainty. After a moment he sighs and snaps his fingers. A baby monitor pops into existence next to Dean’s head, balanced a bit precariously on the bed frame. The other one appears in his hand and he quickly checks they’re both on and functioning. He’s certain that if anything were to happen, his grace would alert him, but it’s never bad to be prepared. 

He flaps his wings and a moment later he’s standing at Charlie’s side. She’s speaking into a phone and she looks up at him a few seconds after he appears. There are small stress lines between her eyebrows but her voice is strong and sure as she talks. Gabriel recognizes the phone as Dean’s. Confiscated when Castiel had first started the soul bond with his human. 

“I promise Dean is fine, I’m his friend and I can help you. Just tell me where you are. I can get you help,” Charlie says slowly and earnestly. She turns to her computer and begins to trace the phone call, trying to isolate it down to the smallest area possible. She nods her head and urges the person on the line to keep talking. “Do you feel you are in danger of hurting anyone or yourself?” 

Gabriel looks over her shoulder and glances over the information. Louisiana. A shadow of a memory itches at his mind. A friend of Dean’s. 

Charlie says one more thing that Gabriel doesn’t hear and then she hangs up. She turns to him and says, “You ready for a flight? We’ve got someone in need of a rescue of sorts.” 

“Of sorts?” he responds in sarcastic question. 

“He needs rescuing from himself. It’s a buddy of Dean’s. Purgatory friend.” 

A name clicks in Gabriel’s mind and he asks, “Benny? The vampire?” 

She nods and gestures to the computer screen where an address is visible. “He’s bitten off more than he can chew. In a manner of speaking.” 

“I thought Dean and him didn’t talk anymore?” 

She looks over at him and says, “Not by his choice. Sam made him choose. You really think Dean would turn away from the man that helped get him through Purgatory? A man he used to call brother?” 

Gabriel purses his lips in thought, though he already knows his decision. He sighs shortly after and hands the baby monitor to her. “Pray to me the moment you hear something,” he orders her. He takes one more look at the address before flying out of the bunker in search of Benny. 

Gabriel doesn’t know what, or who, exactly he’s looking for, but he can smell blood. A lot of it. His stomach churns uncomfortably but he reminds himself that this vampire is a friend of Dean’s. He almost stumbles over something soft and large but catches himself just in time. He looks down to see an unconscious man, blood pooling around the body. His mouth is open and Gabriel can see the tell-tale erupted series of fangs lining the gums. Gabriel watches for another long moment until he sees the stranger’s eyes twitching open. He steps back and away, but the movement sends the vampire into an instinctual panic. 

Benny hisses and tries to force his body into some sort of defensive position, but his limbs are bent in unnatural directions and he only succeeds in twitching and letting out soft gasps of pain. 

“Stay calm, Benny. That is your name, right?” Gabriel says, taking a step back and holding up his hands, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible. 

“Who the hell are you?” Benny spits out, his accent even heavier than normal, making the words barely recognizable. 

“I’m Gabe. Friend of Dean’s. You spoke to another of Dean’s friends earlier: Charlie. She’s the one who took your call.” 

Benny’s eyes twitch to the side as he struggles to remember the conversation, but he slowly nods before he scowls and drawls, “Figured Dean just didn’t want to see me again, begged me off on some poor hapless girl.” 

Gabriel’s lips thin in annoyance, but he just sinks into a squat next to Benny, looking him in the eye. “Dean wouldn’t do that, and you know it.” 

“Didn’t seem to stop him last time I asked for help.” 

“That wasn’t Dean’s idea. It was Sam’s.” Gabriel runs a hand over his face and says, “Now isn’t really the time to talk this out, my man. You called for help. What the hell happened to you?” 

Benny shrugs and looks away from Gabriel for the first time since the angel showed up. “I don’t like fanged fellas who find it fun to torment young women. I stumbled upon several sons of bitches who disagree. We had a long… discussion. Got back home here, but can’t get much farther.” 

“How many?” 

“...six.” 

Gabriel’s eyebrows raise in an impressed expression and he asks immediately, “One on six? Bad odds, man.” The archangel studies the panting man in front of him for another moment before he sighs and says, “Look, I won’t pretend like I’m helping you out of the kindness of my heart, can’t say that’s my style, but Dean would want me to help. So I’m gonna heal you up the best I can and then bring you back to the bunker with me. We can get you some blood so you can fully heal once we’re out of this hell hole.” 

Benny smirks slightly and it’s tinged with pain, but he says with faux offense, “I paid good money for this boat, my friend!” Gabriel can see and feel the palpable relief coming off of the vampire and he just smiles and bends down to get to work. 

Benny immediately stiffens when Gabriel lays a hand on the injured arm closest to him. Gabe easily siphons some of his grace’s energy into the broken body beneath him and Benny gasps in shock and horror and fear and relief as his bones knit back together and his scrapes and wounds close up with no scars. “What the hell are you?” Benny hoarsely whispers. He’d seen Castiel in purgatory, but most of the stoic angel’s abilities had been stripped from him during that time.

“I’m an archangel, don’t think too hard about it.” Gabriel then lifts his hand to Benny’s head and with a quick touch, he flies them to the bunker. Benny stumbles as he’s suddenly moved from sitting sprawled out on the floor of his boat to standing in a large room. Gabriel steadies him with a strong hand on his elbow and Benny catches his breath belatedly.

“I found the stray vamp, Charlie dearest,” Gabe says lightly, but Benny notes that the hand on his arm has gone from supportive to constraining. Benny doesn’t blame the smaller man, he can smell Charlie’s blood from here. It smells sweet and delicious and his fangs ache. He ponders, for a moment, why the angel’s blood doesn’t call to him in the same way. 

“Benny! You’re Benny, right?” Charlie beams down at them from the library steps. “Dean is going to be so excited to see you again! If he remembers you…” 

“Wha’?” Benny asks. 

“Are Dean and Castiel still sleeping?” Gabriel asks Charlie. She nods in response with a glance towards the baby monitor by her keyboard. “I’m taking Benny to the basement s--,” a shiver of unease shocks its way through Gabriel’s body, cutting off his sentence. He closes his eyes and tries to find what caused the disturbance, but can’t pinpoint what exactly his grace is reacting to. 

Gabriel flies Benny to the basement without warning, throws a couple of blood bags, left over from when Dean had gone full demon, at the vampire and locks the heavy metal door. “The blood’s probably stale, but I’m sure you’ve had worse. Drink up, and don’t even think about trying to get out. I’ll be back in a minute.” Benny blinks and the archangel is gone. 

Gabriel stumbles to Dean’s bed and checks the man over for any sign of distress. Once he sees that Dean is fine and sleeping heavily he turns to his brother. Castiel blinks his eyes open, sensing Gabriel’s distress, and mumbles, “What’s wrong?” 

The older angel runs his eyes and grace over Castiel to double check his health. When he finds nothing of concern he shrugs and looks around the room. The sense of hostility is ebbing and growing in random waves. He fidgets where he stands, wary in a way he hasn’t been for many years. His grace begins to vibrate with alarm, and his mind slowly catches up to what’s eating at him. “Someone’s trying to get into the bunker,” he gasps out in realization. 

Castiel’s brows furrow and he asks, “How can you tell? Who is it?” 

“It’s someone or some _ thing _ that can avoid being found by my grace. They’re...poking around the edges of the protective barrier we’ve created. It’s very… disorganized. I can’t find any pattern in their search.” 

“If they can keep  _ you _ in the dark…” Castiel begins, voice trailing off.

“Then they’ll most likely find a way in,” Gabriel finishes. His muscles tense and his eyes flicker as he thinks. He’s gazing away from the room, and into the distance, trying in vain to catch the individual in question. But the movements are fast, almost spastic. And in a way, very familiar… 

Both angels jump in shock when Castiel’s phone bursts into song and Castiel fumbles to find the cell in his many pockets. When he gets his hand on the device he rapidly accepts the call and Gabriel hits the speaker button. “Crowley!” Gabriel shouts. 

_ “Someone’s been knocking around your neighborhood, featherheads. The pets I have patrolling your area are on high alert. Don’t know what it is, but it’s fast.”  _

“Do you think they’re after the vampire?” Castiel asks. 

_ “You have a vampire in the bunker now?” _ Crowley growls out, his voice sounds strained as if he’s been running.

“He’s a friend of Dean’s. No one should have been able to track him, I flew us straight here,” Gabriel replies. 

_ “Juliet! Harper!”  _ Crowley shouts in anger and something like panic.  _ “Damn it all, Harper, what happened to you?” _ The angels cringe as the sounds of rustling and banging fill the air; Crowley must have dropped the phone. They listen to the faint sound of Crowley’s voice and then their eyes go wide when they hear the unmistakable sound of a hell hound’s howl. A few more seconds of loud rustling and Crowley’s voice comes through loud and angry.  _ “Damn it! If this thing is after the vampire I’m going to serve that fanged bugger up on a stick. My second best girl has a hole the size of my fist through her hind leg.”  _

Castiel and Gabriel look at each other with matching fear. Hellhounds are one of the most lethal creatures on the planet. Very few can meet one and survive, even fewer can see and/or avoid one hound, nonetheless two or more. 

_ “You sons of bitches, come open this fucking door right now!” _

Gabriel is back in the bunker and dragging the metal bunker door open within the next second. Crowley slips through the small space and they both slam it shut, engaging all three locks.  _ “What’s going on?”  _ Castiel asks, his voice sounding tinny and muffled from the speakers of Crowley’s phone, which is still grasped in the demon king’s left hand.

Gabriel takes a breath to calm himself and looks down to see a wide-eyed Charlie. She’s staring up at the two of them with apprehension and her own fair amount of confusion. 

“Something wrong?” Charlie asks, her hands frozen over the keyboard. 

Crowley spins around and scowls darkly, though Charlie doesn’t look fazed by the demon ’s dark mood. “Techwhiz hunter number three, put this damn place on full lockdown or whatever you lot call it. We’ve got some unsavory visitors barging in!” Charlie purses her lips but doesn’t ask any further questions. She turns back to her screen and begins madly typing. 

Gabriel studies Crowley’s frazzled appearance, his hair is windblown, his coat rumpled and there are dirt and blood stains on his pressed slacks. The archangel raises one eyebrow as Crowley quickly hangs up the phone and scowls back. Gabriel idly pushes his grace out to comfort his most likely distraught younger brother. His physical focus, however, rapidly hones in on the king’s coat, which is not only rumpled but moving slightly. Gabriel warily reaches forward to poke at the bulge and Crowley slaps his hand away and hurries down the steps into the main room below. 

“What do you have in there?” Gabriel asks, the curiosity he is so known for and that frequently gets him into trouble, roaring to life. He chases after Crowley and begins heckling the man for answers. 

“Shut up you winged idiot!” Crowley snaps. He does, however, stop moving and begins to unbutton his coat. “If you must know, you menace, it’s Dean’s present. I was in a lengthy conversation with one of my breeders when I was pulled away to deal with your drama,  _ again _ .” 

A small black ball falls to the floor and a loud hiss is heard. Gabriel stumbles back half a step as the dark blob lands on four small paws. It’s small, barely larger than a cantaloupe and it looks up at the archangel with two burning red eyes. 

“Oh, my Dad!” Gabriel squeaks out in both delight and horror. “You didn’t!” 

Crowley smirks, looking quite pleased with himself, “Oh, I  _ did _ . I know Dean’s not fond of  _ dogs _ , but I can’t have my knight of hell wandering around unprotected at all times, least of all during all this bond nonsense. I mean, I have to think of my  _ image _ . So I compromised and… improvised?” 

“It’s so… cute?” 

They stand there together, demon and angel, staring down at the very first hell feline. A small shadowy hell  _ kitten. _ It sits down, eyes still turned up to look at Gabriel with its tail moving lazily back and forth. 

“It will obviously get bigger,” Crowley adds, feeling slightly bashful at the very small very not-intimidating creature. “And meaner. You know, hell- _ ish _ .”

“What are you guys talking about?” Charlie asks, having left her computer to walk towards them. Her expression is serious but there’s a small glimmer of a smirk around the edges. 

Crowley sighs and pulls out a couple pairs of glasses from his coat pocket, clearly having prepared for this eventuality. He hands one pair to Charlie who slips them on immediately. Gabriel points her attention down to the ground where the creature sits. Charlie looks at the kitten in incomprehension for a long moment before immediately breaking into loud coos and awws, bending down to pet it. The kitten backs away from her hand, but it doesn’t put a damper on her excited babbling. 

“Not to pull attention away from my obvious genius, but shouldn’t we, oh,  _ I don’t know _ , be more worried about  _ who _ or  _ what  _ the hell is trying to get in?” Crowley asks impatiently. Gabriel straightens abruptly, his glee disappearing like a switch was hit. He focuses back in on the mysterious intruder. The presence has backed off significantly, but he can still feel them just on the outer edges of his awareness like a warning. 

Charlie looks up at them in concern. She stands up and takes the second set of glasses from Crowley’s hand. “I’ll go get Kevin. It sounds like we’re going to need everyone on board.” She quickly strides off towards the side of the bunker where she and Kevin’s rooms are located. 

“Speaking of,” Crowley drawls out. “Where is this vampire?” 

“In the basement. Think we should get to know him a bit?” Gabriel asks, sharing a significant glance with Crowley. 

“Lead the way.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. The rearranging and reformatting of this part of the series does mean that the comments will no longer be where they originally started and that some of them will be deleted because of deleted chapters. I apologize for any confusion but I certainly think it'll be worth it.   
> Thanks for your support!


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Dean and his angels are faced with people from their past.

Gabriel opens and closes the door with a quiet strength, his eyes on the vampire standing in the middle of the room. 

“Lovely place you have here, lads,” Benny greets them. 

“Getting comfy?” Crowley asks with a sarcastic bite. The demon gestures at the three empty blood bags, discarded on a decrepit table to the side of the room. “You in a condition to answer some questions?” It’s phrased as an order, the calm tone of authority and command sounding natural around the king’s words. 

“Imma feeling a scoge better, yea. Gettin’ mighty curious ‘bout where exactly Dean is, though.” 

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders with a small disarming grin, the one he always used on his victims back in his trickster days. “He’s resting,” the archangel says. 

Benny snorts and shakes his head as he replies, “Dean don’t rest, son. Not until he’s put in the ground for the las’ time.” The vampire shifts his gaze between the two men for a moment, before he settles on Crowley. “I ain’t never met  _ you _ before, friend.” 

Crowley smiles ever so slightly, his posture haughty yet resigned. “I may not have been in the office when you were around; you’ve got a lot of years behind you, blood boy. Name’s Crowley, King of Hell.” 

The vampire whistles appreciatively as his body subconsciously shifts into a more defensive posture, his focus on the demon rather than the angel. Gabriel doesn’t know if he should be insulted by that or not. Crowley, on the other hand, looks highly amused by the change. 

“I knew th’angel back in Purgatory. Peach fuzz and a trench coat, iffin I remember right. Where’s he? Way I reckon, where the angel goes Dean follows.” Benny crosses his arms and shifts on his feet, nerves starting to make their way through his veins and heightening his senses almost painfully. 

“Ah, Cas. He’s with Dean,” Gabriel replies. “But Dean isn’t who we’re talking about right now. You are. Who the hell is after you?” 

The only response the angel gets to his question is a small head tilt from Benny and the question, “Who?” 

Crowley interjects impatiently, “Feather Head here goes to pick you up and when you two get back there’s suddenly someone poking around the defenses. You really think that’s a coincidence?” 

“Hell, man, I don’t even know where we are.” Benny runs a hand down his face and sighs before he continues, “I don’t exactly leave witnesses, perse. Even if someone were after me, nothing so smart as bein’ able to track an angel has my number, pal.” 

Crowley rolls his eyes and says, “Yes, because that answer is so relieving.” 

Benny scowls and his eyes flash dangerously, “I doubt y’all are exactly the pillars of perfect citizenship either now. Whoever’s pokin’ ‘round your neighborhood ain’t interested in lil ol’ me.” Benny’s accent gets more pronounced as he talks, his frustration becoming palpable. “Where the hell is Dean? Kid’s not someone to push the dirty work off on other folk, so why isn’t he here?” 

“He’s here, he’s safe, just--” Gabriel starts to explain. 

“The hell he’s here! I don’t see him, do you?” Benny demands, he’s stepped towards the two of them, just a couple feet closer. The distance between them is short and the archangel suddenly understands just how quickly things could get out of control here. 

Crowley replies before Gabriel, “What right do you have to care? You just used Dean to get out of monster hell. Are you telling me that the two of you came out of purgatory hand in hand, friendship shining in your eyes?” 

Benny is thrown off for several seconds, but he quickly regains his composure and he forces his own tone into a matching nonchalance, “Well, now, that depends on our boy, don’t it? The way I see it, you don’t survive something like purgatory and come out the other side without some form of attachment. Camaraderie, if you will.” 

“Brothers?” Gabriel asks. “Cas says you called him brother.” 

“Ay, and he said it right back.” 

“So why’d you think he’d help you now? He cut off communication with you entirely, didn’t he?” Crowley demands. 

Benny pauses and studies Crowley and Gabriel. “See, I know you’re hopin’ to get a rise outta me, now,” he says. The vampire’s posture slumps into a weary hunch. “I been thinkin’ on it though, and it don’t add up. I know Dean, I do. I can see the violence and blood thirst in him, just as well as the kindness and selflessness that’s workin’ to get him killed.” 

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought.” 

Benny chuckles darkly and shakes his head, “Nah. I mean, at first, yeah I was mad. Thought he went and--.” Benny’s eyes come up to meet both of their’s in turn and he sighs again. “Dean is loyal, above everything else. I remember what you said too,” he points at Gabriel, “when we were on ma boat. It’s not clear, but… Look, I know that Dean would die for me in a heartbeat. I saw it o’er and o’er again in that damned place. Which means... Well, there’s the angel, but golden boy and I...well, we came to an agreement of sorts. The only other man that got Dean through that nightmare was his brother. Prayed to him ev’ry night, never shut up about the kid. It was him, wasn’t it? Sam? The real brother. I can’t think o’nother reason. I mean, Dean is dangerous but he’s also  _ predictable _ .” 

All of Gabriel’s suspicion drops away in a blink. That insight into Dean’s psyche is commendable. The truth rings through every word. He finds himself chuckling slightly before he admits, “Damn, Dean needs more people like you.” 

“Like what?” Crowley asks with a frown, his own suspicion obviously still present. 

“Someone who can see through all Dean’s bullshit.”

Benny laughs and nods his head, “Much as I love the kid, he’s drowning in lies and excuses.” The vampire sobers and his head snaps back to his interrogators, “Speaking of, what’re ya not tellin’ me here?” 

Gabriel only hesitates for a second before he explains, “Dean isn’t in a great place, right now. He’s been busy since the last time you saw him.” The archangel ignores the incredulous look that Crowley sends his way.

“Alright.”

“You read the Bible, Benny?” 

“Bits and pieces, yea.” 

“Remember Cain?” 

Benny pales slightly and Gabriel wonders how that works with all the blood that the vampire just drunk. “Did he kill Sam? Tell me he didn’t!” Benny panics. That’s a transgression the vampire knows Dean would never recover from.  It would destroy him. 

“No!” Gabriel assures, a little thrown at the assumption, but he understands where it came from. “Look, I don’t have time to explain this to you. We have bigger problems, namely: who the hell is trying to break in.” He turns back to the door and opens it with a flick of his wrist, too busy to deal with the physicalities of humans. A hand on his arm gives him pause and he looks over to Crowley who’s holding him back. 

“You’re just going to let the vampire run around the bunker then? Are you mad?” Crowley accuses. 

“Please,” Gabriel scoffs. “He’s the least dangerous thing here.” The archangel pushes on through the door before the king can reply. He can hear both sets of feet following him as he walks back to the main hub of the bunker. Charlie and Kevin are sat at the computer bank and working on something with low voices. 

“Update?” Gabriel asks. 

Charlie answers without looking up. “Haven’t found any sign of life outside of the perimeter ‘cause someone’s cut the lines of the cameras around the base. We’re flying blind.” 

“Damn,” Gabriel curses. “Where’s Cas?” 

“Right here,” the voice of his brother replies. Gabriel turns to find both Castiel and Dean, standing hand in hand, both looking sleep rumpled and exhausted. “What’s going on?” Castiel’s eyes finally land on Benny and they widen in surprise. “Benny?” 

“Cas,” Benny replies with a short nod of his head, but his eyes are stuck on Dean. He looks impossibly soft, all of the paranoid preparedness and constant soul weariness is gone. His eyes are green, as they always have been, but they’re lighter than what the vampire’s seen before. Dean’s body is almost slack with obvious sleepiness and his hair is tousled. Benny glances at the connected hands of the man and the angel, sees the way Dean’s fingers clutch at the contact. 

“Dean?” Benny asks hesitantly. His heart is soaring at the proof that Dean is alive and well, but his stomach is clenched in anxiety, things aren’t as they should be. Dean’s eyes pin Benny in place, the southerner’s breath caught in his throat. 

Dean searches Benny’s face for some flicker of recognition. He knows the person in front of him, can feel it down in his bones, but all he can see is grey and more grey when he tries to think. Trees and shadows. Movement and loud noises. Black goo. “I know you…?” Dean trails off, his words sounding like a question. “All I remember is grey. Lots of it.” 

Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand softly and leans over to say, “This is Benny, Dean. He’s helped us before. He’s a friend.” 

Dean nods but it’s clear that he’s uncertain. “Benny,” he repeats, trying the word out on his tongue. He smiles and waves shyly at the vampire, Lucy dangling from his hand as he does so. Benny watches the lamb jerk up and down with the motion and continues to look on in abject confusion. 

“What’s going on?” Benny asks no one in particular. 

Crowley growls as he rolls his eyes, irritated that the focus has once again been drawn away from the situation at hand. He reaches into his coat and grabs the sleeping kitten with gentle hands. Far more carefully than he would ever admit to being. Once the kitten is safely nestled in one hand, the king of hell plucks Lucy from Dean’s grip, replacing the plush with the tiny hell kitten. 

Dean stares at the thing in confusion and bewilderment, much like Benny is watching Dean. The feline stands on four miniscule paws and purrs for attention. Dean reverently places a finger on the small head and strokes down the animal’s back. The purring gets louder and Dean grins tentatively. The cat moves to nudge its head against Dean’s chest but the boy gasps and jerks his body away from the critter. Castiel swiftly reaches out and catches the small falling body and shushes Dean. 

“It won’t hurt you, baby boy.” Castiel’s eyes keep flickering from the kitten in his hands back to Crowley with obvious surprise. “Is this what I think it is?” 

Crowley looks immensely smug as he shrugs with feigned nonchalance. “It’s the very first hell kitten. Hell feline. Hell cat. I’m still working on the name.” 

“How come Dean can see it without the glasses?” Kevin asks, said glasses perched on his nose delicately. 

Castiel replies, “Dean’s a knight of hell. He can see everything a demon can.” 

Dean pokes very slowly at the small twitching nose of the kitten. He looks at Crowley and asks, “Uncle Crowley?” 

“It’s yours, Dean. It will grow much larger, or so I’ve been told,” Crowley says. “I can’t have my knight getting into trouble without any backup.” 

Dean’s spine straightens and Crowley swears he can see something blue flash through those eyes. “No! He can’t find it! We have to hide it! Now! Before he gets back. Was he getting drinks tonight or coming straight home? Come on, Sam!” Dean urges with desperation. Everyone watches as Dean pulls at Castiel’s hand, his eyes large and scared as they gaze at the kitten. “Sam, I told you he doesn’t like animals, he’ll kill it. Come  _ on _ !” 

Castiel hands the now distressed kitten to Gabriel and turns his full attention to Dean. “Dean, baby boy, listen to me. John’s not here, he can’t hurt you or Sam.” 

“But the cat! He got so mad when Sam… and I just… there was blood everywhere and I just wanted a friend and Sam was…” 

“Dean, Dean! Breathe!” Castiel urges, his hand coming down to push gently on Dean’s chest, trying to remind him of the needed action. Dean grips at the hand on his chest and blinks away the tears that are building up. 

“But, what if he--” 

“No.” Castiel makes sure to catch Dean’s eyes before he continues speaking, “John can’t get you, you know why? Because I won’t let him. And neither will any of your friends here. Family watches out for family, right?” 

Dean nods slowly but his eyes are still wide and terrified. He slowly turns to look back at the animal that’s currently mewling in quiet concern, its paws kneading Gabriel’s palm. Gabriel extends his hand, offering the kitten to Dean once again. 

Dean reaches out very slowly and takes a surprised step back when the cat jumps into his hands. He looks down at the animal with awe, one hand moving to scratch behind tiny ears. Dean can feel the vibration of the purring through his entire body, and it makes him giggle. He cradles the small body in his hands, terrified of crushing it. The kitten looks up at Dean with red eyes and a jolt of fear courses through Dean. He very nearly drops the cat again, but the kitten hops up to stand on Dean’s shoulder instead. 

A brief wave of pain washes through his body and he can hear low angry growling in his mind. He can feel the tearing of skin and bone. He sees the scores of razor-sharp claws littering a wooden floor. The smell of hot breath and blood. 

Dean snaps back to the present with the feeling of electricity jolting through him. Dean sighs shakily and leans into Castiel beside him. There’s still something itching at him, his thoughts restless, trying to connect the dots that he can’t see. He looks to the side to see the kitten once more, those red eyes boring into his own. Goosebumps roll across his skin, but the fear isn’t as abrupt as before. 

“What’s its name?” Dean asks quietly, not taking his eyes off of his new companion. 

“Her name is whatever you wish it to be, Dean,” Crowley says. His voice is off, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. Crowley’s now positive something blue is flashing in Dean’s eyes. He can feel raw power emanating from the boy. Crowley and the two angels exchange glances, all noticing the same thing. 

“I’m sorry, but what are you guys talking about? What the hell’s going on?” Benny asks with annoyance evident in each word. “What’s wrong with Dean?” 

Dean’s head snaps over to Benny at the mention of his name, and blue bolts of lightning like tendrils of blue are flashing across his pupils and irises. “Benny…” Dean says under his breath. A memory slams into the front of his consciousness, a bloody fight and taunting words. He feels suspicion and relief and humor and… 

_ “What? No thanks for saving your hide?”  _

_ “Sure, I won’t shove this up your ass,” Dean replies, brandishing his weapon.  _

_ “I got something you need.”  _

_ “Yeah? And what’s that?”  _

_ “A way out.” _

The memory changes. Now Dean is standing by a small stream, Benny standing next to him. 

_ “We don’t leave until we find Cas.”  _

_ “You don’t even know that the angel’s in here with us. If he survived.”  _

_ “He survived, I can promise you that.”  _

_ “Fine! Then wha’s his excuse for desertin’ you, huh?” _

_ “He had a reason, I’m sure of it! Remember, Benny. I’m the one that can get your soul to the other side, so stop questioning me, and just do your job!”  _

_ “Oh, and what’s that now?”  _

_ “Taking orders and staying quiet!”  _

_ “You wouldn’t like me near as much if I did that, brother.”  _

_ Dean’s surprised by the dark chuckle that breaks free from his chest. “You know me too well, brother,” he replies.  _

…..

“ _ God made it so.” _

_ ….. _

_ “Maybe you like being man meat for every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” _

_ ….. _

_ “Something about that place, Sam. It felt  _ **_pure._ ** _ ”  _

…..

Pain lances through his head and Dean hunches over, his hands coming up to protect his skull from a melee attack on instinct, but none follows. The pain amplifies, like a siren in his mind, bits and pieces of memories slamming into each other and crashing through the barrier of his younger mindset. Dirt and blood and sharp smiles. Stories under the trees, prayers to the stars, and sharing the heat of a fire at night. 

“Dean?” 

“Are you okay, brother?” 

“Dean, answer us, please!” 

He doesn’t know who’s saying what, or even if the voices are from the present or the past. It suddenly feels like the universe is there for his analyzation, everything feels too large for its space. His mind fights itself, turning in and out and over. 

Then something else, something much darker begins to creep into place. It grabs at the bloody memories, it covets the moments of monstrousness. It makes Dean thirst for something in a primal manner that makes his teeth ache. A flash of red overtakes the blue he can see all around him, and his eyes are drawn down to the glowing red mark on his arm. He can see red and blue lightning fighting for dominance, clinging to his body and burning him. 

Dean screams and he can hear the impact of his knees with the ground, but the pain isn’t there. Or perhaps it is, but he’s all so consumed by the lightning, that he can’t feel it. He looks up at the others but each face brings more pain, more memories, more anger, and fear. 

“He needs more grace, Cas!” 

“That could kill him, featherbrain!” 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“Dean, please, come back!” 

“Do it, or he’ll die now!” 

Dean doesn’t feel the hand come down on his chest or see Castiel kneeling in front of him, but he can feel the cold stomach curdling sensation of power creeping into his soul. The pain intensifies but the red recedes, crawling back into the the mark. He has enough awareness to remember Cain. The knife. Purgatory. Sam. Castiel. Benny. It’s all flashes of images and blasts of emotions. 

The blue overtakes it all and he knows he’s screaming, but he can’t hear it. 

He just wants it to stop. 

He wants to stop fighting, it’s so exhausting. 

…..

  
  


Everyone’s eyes are pinned on Dean’s form, no longer twitching or writhing in pain, but his skin still faintly crackling with blue power. With grace. 

“What the hell jus’ happened?” Benny roars in confusion and anger. The vampire steps forward into a crouch with clear intentions of touching Dean. Castiel, Gabriel, and Crowley all move at once. Castiel instantly worrying over Dean, his hand coming to feel for a fever and checking the boy’s pulse. Gabriel steps forward to stop Benny from touching Dean, concerned for everyone’s safety if the grace was to be accidentally funneled into anyone else’s body. Crowley whirls backward and away from everyone, his eyes large and scanning the room. 

“Damn it, you fools!” Crowley growls out, his eyes continuing the search of the room around them. “It’s here now!” 

Gabriel grabs Benny’s wrist with a frantic strength, causing the vampire to scowl and shove the archangel bodily away. “Don’t touch him!” Gabriel gasps out, too addled to find the energy to be angry at the physical handling. 

Alarms begin blaring from the computers behind Charlie and Kevin, causing both of the younger individuals to turn in a rush and run back to the screens. “Intruder alert in the bunker!” Charlie screams, her fingers flying across the keyboard and her eyes intent on the windows of text flashing on the monitor before her. 

“How the hell did it get in?” Gabriel asks in shock. 

“Damned if I know!” 

“Well, where is it?” Kevin asks in terror.

Crowley cries out wordlessly as he begins backing away from the group. He jabs a finger towards Dean and shouts, “Run! Get him out! Now!” His form disappears with the faintest whiff of smoke and everyone is frozen in silence for a long moment of shock. Then Charlie and Kevin sprint away and into one of the corridors. They have plans for this, escape routes, eventualities. 

The two angels look at each other in unison, both feeling the same slight pull on their consciousnesses. A flicker of familiarity and the prickle of divine power. Gabriel sends his flurried thoughts as a mental slam into Castiel’s. The younger angel nods his head somberly and disappears with Dean in a blink. Benny curses and stumbles backward, his eyes wide and his breathing, though unnecessary, heavy and bothered by habit and panic. 

“What the hell!” the southerner gasps once again, struggling to keep up with what’s happening. 

Gabriel can feel the pull stronger now, his name whispered in his own mind loudly, by a voice he almost recognizes. It’s a beckoning, he knows that much. He grabs onto the presence, trying to pull back in retaliation and uncover the identity of their unwanted guest, but all he finds is a distant sensation of disdain. A shiver runs down Gabriel’s spine and he swallows. 

“Benny,” Gabriel says quietly. “Keep quiet. Keep out of the way.” Gabriel doesn’t wait to see if the vampire heard him. He flies to the intruder. He can’t hide, that much is obvious by the creature’s awareness of him. It, whoever or whatever it is, also does not desire to hurt him and Gabriel goes with it if for nothing else than to buy the rest of them time.

Gabriel blinks as he comes to a stop in a small back room of the bunker, dusty with disuse and poorly lit by one dying light bulb. “You’re dead!” Gabriel gasps out in disbelief as he stares at the being in front of him. They’re wearing a different skin, a new vessel, but the familiar grace of his brethren shines out from under the mortal body. 

“Father merely wanted me gone, brother. I had to disappear. Couldn’t have you all looking for me,” the unassuming looking archangel says with clear amusement. “Besides, you’re the last person to judge me for faking a death to stay away from the family drama.”

“I left of my own volition. You were cast away!”

“It doesn’t matter in the end, brother.”

“But why? We thought you were killed. We mourned you.” 

“It wasn’t my decision, not at first, at least.” Gabriel just continues gazing upon his lost brother who rolls their eyes and sighs outs, “You always were slow on the uptake, Gabriel. Think about it, who am I?” 

“Seraphiel.” 

“And what was my job? The one given to me by our father...” 

“You’re the arms master of heaven.” 

“Exactly. Now think about it! Why would Father want me separated from the rest of his gullible and impressionable flock?” 

“You must have found something you weren’t supposed to…? A weapon?” 

“A penny for the angel!” Seraphiel crows in half genuine delight and half mocking disgust. 

“What was it?” Gabriel asks, unable to stop himself. “What did you do?” 

“What does it matter, it’s of the past now.” The intruding archangel hums quietly as he studies Gabriel with intent eyes. Gabriel is overjoyed to find another archangel. He thought himself alone for some time now, but Seraphiel’s eyes are flat and almost...angry, as they look at each other. Gabriel swallows around the cold sinking feeling in his chest, this is not to be a happy reunion. He should have known, nothing in his family is that simple. But why has Seraphiel come back? What are they here to do?

Seraphiel eventually shrugs one shoulder with a lackadaisical ease and says, “I learned my lesson, Gabriel. I lived through my punishment, just as father intended, and I’ve continued to do as I’ve been taught. I must uphold the same job as I have  _ always _ done.” 

“And what is that, then?” 

“I am the lock and key upon the arsenal of heaven and earth. I have found the boundaries, and I am now responsible for upholding them. Even if that means making hard decisions.” 

Gabriel stares blankly at Seraphiel as his mind rapidly works through his brother’s words. Trying to detangle the possible motives for this intrusion. “No!” Gabriel shouts out in realization after a moment of contemplative silence. Dread and fear radiating through his bones as he realizes what, or rather  _ who _ , the threat is that Seraphiel has come for. “He  _ killed _ Cain.” 

“He  _ is  _ Cain.” Seraphiel sighs out of his nose in annoyance and has to visibly regain his temper. “I’ve been tracking that monster for centuries, biding my time, watching his weaknesses. After all, Cain is the most lethal weapon that has ever fallen out of heaven. A drop of pain and misery, a curse that grew into a conduit of mass destruction.” Seraphiel pauses to regain Gabriel’s eye contact. “Cain’s always been a keg waiting to blow, but I needed more time to find a weakness. A true end to the monster. I was content to wait and watch but then he fell off my radar suddenly. His home destroyed. Then out of the blue Dean Winchester and the estranged Castiel have killed him? No. Impossible. If it were that simple, I would have done it myself. So I started asking around, I researched, I did  _ my job _ . And what do I find, but a  _ new _ Cain- with a body count already to his new title.” Seraphiel looks disgusted by the thought and Gabriel feels his own stomach sinking at the remembered slaughters of Dean’s. 

Seraphiel continues, “The new Cain wound up locked in this fortress. And he isn’t  _ merely _ a demon, not _ just _ a knight of hell. Dean Winchester has been twisted into some paradox of darkness sewn together with grace!” 

“We’re trying to save him!” Gabriel interjects, his anger and desperation warring for dominance in his voice. 

“And I’m trying to save you!” Seraphial retorts. “You have no idea what you’re doing, what you’re creating! Dean Winchester cannot be tied to the angels, he needs to be locked away, the way the true Cain was supposed to be.” 

“Dean isn’t Cain!” 

“But he bears the Mark! Cain wasn’t a murderer, a hunter, before that day when he killed his brother. Dean has had death in his bones since birth and  _ now _ he’s ruled by the Mark!  _ He’s more dangerous than Cain ever was!” _ Seraphiel takes a deep breath and continues, “And now you’re trying to bond with him?! Do you have any idea what kind of power that would give him?”

“Yes, the power to fight the mark.” 

“Possibly. But what if he fails? What if he falls into the mark, what then?” 

“He won’t!” Gabriel denies. 

“You don’t know that!” 

“Yes, I do!” 

“How?” 

“Because he’s Dean fucking Winchester!” 

“The righteous man?” 

“Yes!” 

Seraphiel shakes his head with a pitying expression as if Gabriel is but a misled child. “Need I remind you that the righteous man fell in hell? He stood up off that rack, breaking under the torture.” 

“Dean wasn’t a---” 

“His father did not break. For one hundred years, he stayed on that rack. Dean broke in thirty!” 

Gabriel can feel a rage beginning to smolder inside him at the mention of the older man’s name. The anger hotter than he’s felt in centuries. Millenium. “Don’t you dare compare the two of them! John Winchester wasn’t used and abused his entire life. He didn’t lose his family before he could properly remember them. John led a fulfilling life up until the night that his wife died tragically. Dean has never known that stability or contentedness. All Dean has ever known is pain and humiliation and shame! It’s a wonder the man lasted thirty years!” 

“Semantics, brother. The man isn’t strong enough to fight back. He broke then, he’ll break now. It’s only a matter of time, so help yourselves. Give him to me and I can lock him up where he can’t hurt anyone else. The mark can be beaten, but not the way you’re doing it. We must protect the world from its influence.” 

“And Dean?” 

“Dean is no longer. There is only Cain. He will become the mark, and he will be locked away with it.” 

“No.” 

“You don’t have the power to say no to me, Gabriel. This isn’t up for discussion! You can’t go through with this soul bond!” 

“Castiel and Dean are--” 

“Castiel is a fool! He barely has enough grace to stay an angel himself, and you really think that our rebel brother can tame the Mark of Cain? You guys couldn’t stop the apocalypse from happening, you couldn’t stop Abbadon from rising, you can’t stop the truths of life. Or death.” 

“Dean and Sam may not have stopped Lucifer and Michael from fighting, but they did save the world from their destruction.” 

“As if this world is worth saving in any capacity. We’re talking about more than just the death of the apes here! Cain is more than a cursed man.” 

“You’re right, you said yourself that Cain was a brother! He only killed to save his brother from pain!” 

“Intent holds no reason to corruption, Gabriel!”

“You can’t have him!” Gabriel shouts. His mind is reaching out for Castiel, searching for his brother and Dean. Gabriel’s shoulders slump slightly when Castiel gently responds and says they’re safe in the house. 

“I will have him. I already have my people gathering everyone in this Father forsaken death trap. You don’t have a choice here, brother. Cain is coming with me.” 

Gabriel snarls and grabs at the raw power of his grace to attack Seraphiel, desperate to protect his family, but finds he can’t. With a shuddering breath, Gabriel looks up and finds an angel rune painted onto the ceiling with blood. His heart drops. He can’t leave. He can’t attack. He can’t do anything. He can’t believe he fell for something as simple as this. He’s an archangel, he’s the protector of everyone in this bunker, and now he’s powerless to stop Seraphiel from gathering them up like errant sheep. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Gabriel tries once again, his voice cracking on the words. 

Seraphial gives a small tired grimace and shakes his head as he replies, “Yes, I do.” 

Gabriel closes his eyes and searches through the bunker with his awareness, searching for the pinpoints of light that are Charlie and Kevin. He can see smaller shadows and lights running through the halls, angels and demons of a lower status. Seraphiel’s lackeys no doubt. 

He grimaces as he finds the strobing light that is Kevin. The prophet has no chance of not being found by the angels, his identity is flashing like a neon sign at all times. Prophets were made to be found and protected. 

He has higher hopes for Charlie. She knows the bunker, and she’s small and fast, her signal much weaker. Maybe she can get out and perhaps even find some help. 

“The others,” Gabriel asks, “you won't hurt them?”

Seraphiel turns back to Gabriel and gives a genuine sad smile as he replies, “None will be harmed, as long as they do not try anything foolish. This does not bring me satisfaction to do, brother. I do not wish to cause you or Castiel pain. But I have a job, and I'm going to do it.”

  
  



	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action heats up in the bunker and Charlie is faced with a hard decision.

Benny curses under his breath and hurries down yet another hallway to avoid stumbling into a pair of demons. The place is like a maze and he has no idea where he is any longer. The concern for Dean is starting to fester as well causing the anxiety in his to stomach deepen. He hates not knowing what’s going on, and he hates seeing Dean in pain. 

He slips through an open door and into an empty room. He allows himself to sit down on a nearby dusty chair to try and regain his senses. He’s never had a particularly good sense of direction. He’d relied pretty heavily on Dean in purgatory to keep track of what direction they were going. Dean had an uncanny ability to know which direction was north, even in that land of grey and death. The man could always build a fire and find shelter too. Benny doesn’t know how he does it. Dean Winchester is just one giant tool of survival; skills Benny didn’t even know existed are deeply ingrained into Dean’s character. Drop him anywhere and he’ll scrape by. No, he won’t just survive, he’ll thrive. Makes him wonder what the man’s childhood must have been like. 

Benny’s missed Dean these past few months. The only person who knew him for what he was and who he was. The only character he’s ever met who didn’t look at him and see a monster, even in purgatory.  Dean managed to find and drag out every piece of humanity Benny still had when they were hiking through those grey trees.

Benny owes him so much and Dean doesn’t even know. The concern for his friend grows stronger, edging into panic. He needs to find Dean, to see that he’s alright. He can trust Dean to pull through pretty much anything, but he’s also never seen Dean collapse like that. Scream like that. The vampire always figured that the thing that would drag Dean out of this world would be the kid himself. 

Benny’s head jerks up as the door inches open slowly. He stands silently and readies himself for an attack. The first thing he sees is red hair, followed by a slender female body and two large terrified eyes. “Benny, right?” Charlie asks in a whisper, door closed once again behind her. 

“Right, right,” Benny replies in a breath. “And who’s you, if I may ask again?” 

Charlie waves a hand with a small nervous smile, her eyes not quite meeting his. “I’m Charlie.” 

“From the phone.” 

Charlie nods her head and her smile turns more genuine. “Yupp. That’s where I like to be, tech support. Helping and saving lives without the constant terror and bodily harm part. Best of both worlds, if you ask me.” 

Benny’s not following her train of thought, but he doesn’t think it’s particularly important. Instead, he asks, “What’s going on?” 

Charlie scoffs and her shoulders slump forward, “Everything.” She sighs and sits down in the chair he vacated. “Dean’s in trouble.” 

“When is he not?” 

“Exactly. But this time he’s got into something he can’t fix himself. He’s got the Mark of Cain, which basically turned him into an evil demon for a while. We got him back, but the mark is still eating away at him. Lord of the Rings style, you know? The One Ring is slowly corrupting him and dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Except unlike in the books, Dean goes completely manic and homicidal.” 

Benny ignores the parts he doesn’t understand and gets the basic picture of the problem. “So the mark is what’s wrong with him?” 

Charlie nods, “Yupp. But we can’t get rid of it, so Cas came up with this brilliant idea to tie Dean to his grace. That way Dean would have something to combat the Mark with. Demon vs. Angel, all wrapped up with the ribbon of Dean’s soul.” 

“That’s insane.” 

“Absolutely. But if anyone can do it, it’d be Dean.” 

“So what happened earlier? Why’d he collapse?” 

Charlie frowns and shrugs her shoulders in bafflement. “I don’t know.” 

“Where is he now?” 

“I don’t know. With Cas.” 

“What’s happening out there?” 

“I don’t know! They grabbed Kevin earlier. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t know what to do! That’s why I tracked you down. I was hoping you might have, you know, a _ plan _ . Dean’s always the one that comes up with a plan. He’s the one that finds me and drags me through the craziness.” Charlie is getting a bit frantic as she talks and scrubs at her eyes roughly when she tears up. 

Benny places a hand on her shoulder and says, “Alright, darling, calm down. Dean’s not the only lucky son of a bitch around, ya’ hear? I got him outta a right nice set of messes when we were workin’ together. We’ll figure this out, yeah?” 

“Yeah, okay.” Charlie clears her throat and visibly straightens her back as she focuses in on the problem at hand. “I can access the cameras and see what’s happening. I can shut down power to the bunker or send out an emergency beacon for help. We could get down to the garage and take one of the cars, Dean’s got most of them in working order at this point. I called Cas earlier, but I think he left his phone on vibrate or something. He does that a lot. Gabe’s not answering either, which is more worrisome.” 

“Slow down, darling. You lost me at beacon.” Charlie blushes and wrings her hands in her lap. “Where’s Dean?” 

“He’s at the house. It’s tied to the bunker, here, but it’s not actually physically here. I don’t know, it’s angel mojo.” 

“But it’s accessible from here?”

“For sure. It’s off the main corridor, in a supply closet. You just walk right through.” 

“What are the odds that these fellas in your house are gonna find it?” 

“Depends on how hard they look….” 

Benny pauses and tries to sort through the pertinent information. They’re flying blind, that’s the biggest problem. “You said there’s cameras ‘round here? Like we could peek a gander at what’s happenin’ ‘round the place?” 

“Absolutely. Angels and demons tend to ignore video cameras and other technology when they can. The whole bunker is outfitted with CCTV and state of the art--” 

“Where they at?” 

“Well, I mean I could access them from any computer. A laptop, a tablet, my main tower in the library. I could do it from my phone but…” 

“But what?” 

Charlie blushes again and looks away, “I’m out of data, and I’ve made it so it auto-lockdowns. It’s nearly unhackable, I mean, of course, it is, I designed it. I uh...I got a lot of overage bills. It was getting out of control. But it’s not my fault, because the wifi and these stone hallways aren’t the best of friends and--”  

“Focus, Charlie.” 

Charlie lets out a quiet exhale of anxiety and closes her eyes to think. “Wait, your phone. Give it to me.” 

Benny pulls it out and hands it over without prompt. She looks down at it in disgust. “Is this from the 1800’s, my god!” She flips it open with a whimper of pain and begins typing into the old keyboard. “Well, at least it connects to the internet. Mostly.” 

Benny leaves her there and creeps back to the door, putting his ear to the wood, listening for any nearby footsteps. He doesn’t hear anything to put him on the alert, but he remains still and straining to catch a sound of approach. Behind him, he can hear Charlie muttering and violently typing into his phone. 

“God, the screen is so fucking small!” Charlie curses in frustration. When he turns he sees her squinting down at the device and he hurries over to her to try and see what she’s found. She flicks through several different screens of video until she stops on one. He leans closer to see it properly. 

Charlies sees that Kevin is sat petulantly in a corner of a small room with Crowley stuck in a demon trap not far from him. She can just see the edge of Gabriel’s small body, standing off to one side and gesturing wildly. A man she doesn’t recognize stands in the middle of them all, looking annoyed but not tense. She wishes she could plug into the audio and listen in, but there’s only so much she can do with such outdated tech. 

“Cas and Dean aren’t there,” she says to Benny. 

“Well, I reckon that means the two ain’t been found yet,” Benny replies. 

She takes one last look at Kevin and Crowley’s unharmed forms, and the rapid movement of Gabriel’s compact body before she begins flicking through the footage again. She finally pulls up one video feed that shows an empty hallway. The maintenance closet that holds the entrance to the house sits in clear view. It’s undisturbed but several strangers walk past it as she watches. 

“I’m gonna try calling Cas again,” she mutters grabbing her own phone out of her pocket. She pulls his contact up and absently rubs her fingertips over the small keys of Benny’s phone as she listens to her phone ring. 

“Charlie?” Castiel’s voice answers. Charlie jumps in surprise and then laughs weakly in relief. 

“Damn it, Cas! You couldn’t answer the phone a little earlier?” She frowns when the angel doesn’t respond immediately, instead, there’s the sound of rustling and movement. 

“I’ve been trying to stabilize Dean,” Castiel finally says after the noises stop. “He’s just gained consciousness and he seems….well, fine.” 

“Why are you saying that like it’s a terrible thing?” Charlie asks. She glances up at Benny’s confused face and belatedly puts the phone on speaker. She’s careful to keep the volume low, however, not wanting to attract attention from anyone outside the room. 

“Because I don’t understand what happened or what’s happening!” 

“Is he still crackling blue?” 

Charlie can hear Dean’s voice through the speaker and her heart eases at the sound. It’s muffled and she can’t make out any of the words, but his voice doesn’t sound pained. She can see Benny’s shoulders drop in relief beside her. 

“No blue yet,” Castiel eventually supplies. 

“You heard from Gabe?” Charlie asks. 

“No, he went silent almost immediately after he left.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that he’s trapped. In holy fire or something similar, I would presume. I can’t hear him and I can only vaguely feel his presence. There’s someone else there though. Very strong.” 

“He, Kevin, and Crowley are all trussed up in a storage room on the eastern side of the bunker. There’s another guy there. Don’t recognize him, but there are angels and demon alike roaming the halls looking for anyone.” 

“Are the others alright? Anyone injured?” 

Charlie shakes her head but forgets to verbally respond as she notices a couple of figures stop in front of the closet on the video feed. They’re just talking, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the door behind them, but her heart rate speeds up regardless. She eventually remembers to say out loud, “No, they look fine. Angry but unharmed. What the hell is going on, Cas?” 

“I’d like an answer to that myself,” Benny pipes up. Charlie notes that his eyes are also on the loitering figures on screen. “And Imma wonderin’ iffin’ these guys can find that house y’all are at. They trapped the king of hell and an archangel real easy like. These ain’t amateurs.” 

Castiel’s sigh is staticy and loud through the phone and Charlie’s eyes flick up to the door in a sudden pang of fear. The adrenaline in her system is starting to crash. A throbbing pain is leaching up from her tense shoulders and into her neck and head. She rolls her shoulders back absently and chews on her bottom lip. 

“You said there’re angels and demons at the bunker?” Castiel asks. 

“Far as I can tell, yeah,” Charlie says. 

“I’ve seen more of y’all with the haloes than the others, but yeah,” Benny states. “Wait, what is that?” The vampire points at the screen and Charlie’s eyes narrow as she looks. 

“I don’t know... I don’t see anything…” 

“That blob, it’s going for the closet.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Right there!” Benny insists, pointing his finger ineffectually at the phone. Charlie still can’t see anything but the henchmen on camera certainly do. Their attention has turned to the closet door and Charlie watches in panic as they approach it slowly. Almost cautiously. She frowns in confusion as one of the approaching men kneels down on the ground and reaches out towards the ground. 

“Is that the cat?” Benny asks in bafflement. 

Castiel asks, “Wait, the cat?” 

Charlie’s eyes widen in realization and she drops her phone in her lap so she can stuff her now free hand into her hoodie pocket. She pulls out a pair of thick-framed glasses and she immediately slips them on. 

She can see it now. A small black blob pawing at the door. A hand of one of the strangers tentatively touches the back of the creature and the thing moves faster than the camera can pick up. It’s a blur of movement from both the kitten and the man as he falls over backward and crawls away from the door. He’s clutching his hand to his chest and it looks like he’s yelling. Charlie again wishes she could get access to the audio. 

“I can hear it,” Castiel says softly. “It’s making a racket at the door….” 

Charlie watches in horror as the uninjured man opens the door, trying to keep a safe distance between him and the cat. The kitten disappears from view and Benny curses loudly behind her. He’s already running for the door by the time Charlie looks up. 

“Castiel! Get out of there!” Charlie yelps, scrambling to keep up with Benny. It’s hard to watch the camera feed as she’s running through the hallways, yelling directions to the speeding vampire in front of her, but she can see the two men disappear into the closet. 

“Dean,” she can hear Castiel say softly. “I need you to come here, and I need you to stay quiet, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

They’re almost to the closet but she can hear new voices shouting and running after them as they race through the corridors. Benny doesn’t pay the approaching enemies any attention, just continues running where Charlie directs him. 

“I can’t leave the bunker,” Castiel hisses. 

“What? Why? The house isn’t safe anymore, you need to leave!” Charlie shouts. 

“I’m being blocked in. I can’t fly out. There’s… oh no…” 

“What??” 

“There’s angel runes on the outside of the bunker. I can’t pass through them. Whoever came in must have put them up on their way in after they got rid of ours.” 

“So go outside! You have a slice of heaven over there right? Just go out there!” 

“That’s not how it works! Dean, honey, come here! No!” She can hear Castiel’s phone hit the ground and she feels her lungs go numb. Her body is still moving, however. She pushes Benny to the left and suddenly the closet door is right in front of them. 

“Dean!” Charlie gasps out rocketing past the small crowd gathering outside the area. Castiel has an angel blade out and he’s hacking through the first several combatants. Charlie doesn’t understand what’s going on, but her heart is yelling at her to get to Dean. This has to be about him. It’s  _ always _ about Dean. Castiel slams his blade through the shoulder of the angel that reaches for her and she slips past them all and into the house. 

Dean’s standing just to the side of the door, watching everything with wide eyes. He looks frozen. Charlie tackles him into a hug, pulling him further away from the door. She notices the small black cat in Dean’s hands and she huffs out a startled and terrified laugh. Of course. 

Charlie glances back over her shoulder to see Benny and Castiel putting down the last couple of enemies, but they can all hear more coming. All eyes turn to Dean and there’s just a moment of silence as all three of them watch Dean in mounting terror. “They’re after him,” Castiel gasps out. “One of them said something about the mark.” 

Benny growls and steps through the doorway, grabbing both Charlie and Dean by the arms. “They won’t get him,” he says. “You’re small. Fast. Get ‘im outta here. Ya said somethin’ ‘bout cars earlier, yeah?” Charlie blinks roughly and nods her head, stumbling along with Dean as Benny pulls them. “Everyone’s gonna be makin’ their way down here, right? For us,” he gestures at himself and Castiel. “Y’all run the other way. Get outta here, ya’ hear?” Charlie doesn’t get a chance to respond, Benny shoves the two of them out the closet and down the hallway to their side. The approaching sounds of running footsteps and voices are coming from the other direction. 

“Go!” Castiel shouts, his eyes wide and fixed on Dean. He expertly spins the angel blade around in his hand and tears his attention away and to the incoming threat. 

Charlie chokes on a sob but she grabs Dean’s hand and she starts to run. Dean’s asking questions loudly and shouting for daddy, but she shushes him and keeps running. When they’re far enough away she slows them into a fast walk, knowing they need to be quiet now. The only real chance they have of getting out of the bunker now is to be sneaky. Dean’s caught on to the situation and he merely follows in silence, both hands once again cupped around the feline. The kitten is mewling softly and rubbing its small head into Dean’s chest. 

Charlie rounds the second to last corner, already making plans in her head for which car to pick, where they’re gonna go… She slams into a large body and she lets out a terrified squeak of shock. She looks up into black eyes and she very nearly screams. She pushes Dean past the man and she lunges at the demon’s throat. She’s desperate and scared and the demon easily pushes her to the ground, but he doesn't go after Dean. Instead, he reaches down for her again and all she can feel is relief. Then her survival instincts kick in and she scrambles away from his reach. She lands a sloppy kick to his chin and then she’s running again. Away from the garage, away from Dean. She smiles manically as she hears the demon follow her. Then her grin falls as rushing adrenaline and the burning need to escape sets in.

She runs faster than she’s ever run before and her chest burns with each breath. Her legs shake heavily underneath her and she stumbles into a darkened room, trying to quiet her gasping. She watches in a horrid moment of suspense as the lumbering figure of her attacker goes barreling by the open door. Her hand is clamped over her mouth and she doesn’t move for a long time after his footsteps have faded away. 

It all hits her then. Her knees give out and she slides painfully down the wall and to her knees. Her chest burns distantly and she can feel tears running down her face and onto the hard floor beneath her. She knows, distantly, that she’s hyperventilating, but it’s hard to comprehend. She just feels terror. Her stomach is hollow and her breath is gone and her head is buzzing. She sobs heavily and pushes her hands into her eyes, trying desperately to stay quiet. It’d been so long since she’d had to deal with something this close to home. She’s done a fantastic job of picking up Bobby’s tasks and bringing the hunting community into the next century and she’s helped save lives. But she never wanted to be in the thick of things like this again. 

It’s not for a couple of minutes before she remembers Dean. She lurches to her feet but doesn’t know what to do. Where to go. Maybe they already have Dean. 

She falls back down to the floor and she doesn’t try to get back up. Instead, she fumbles through her pockets hoping against hope that...yes, Benny’s phone. She grabs it and flips it open, reloading the footage and pulling it up. The hallway in front of the closet entrance is empty and she begins flipping through all the different rooms. 

It doesn’t take long to find Benny and Castiel. In that storage room with the unassuming looking man from before. Kevin and Crowley and Gabriel and Benny and Castiel… 

The latter two look a bit worse for wear; they’re both tied up and look absolutely livid. She can’t hear what’s going on, but it looks like chaos. The stranger waves his hands and there’s a flash of light that makes the video camera fizz out of focus for a second. She watches her friends, her family, go still. He’s talking now, looks like he’s yelling. She can see Gabriel jumping back in, undoubtedly throwing everything right back at whoever this stranger is. She drops the phone back into her lap and lets her head fall back onto the wall behind her. They don’t have Dean. 

Dean is out there somewhere, probably terrified. Abandoned. Charlie shoves her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her scream of frustration and tries to come up with a plan. She picks up the phone again, trying to find a glimpse of him with the cameras. She doesn’t know if he’s hiding or she’s just too slow to catch him, but Dean is nowhere in sight. 

  
  


Charlie is out of ideas and she’s skating by on borrowed time. She’s already run into several demons and angels in the hallways as she tries to find a way out of the bunker. She’s barely escaped each time, and they’re closing in. She needs help. Desperately. But everyone’s been captured, meaning she’s on her own. Except for Dean. 

Charlie hurls herself into an empty room just in time to avoid being seen and clutches at her chest. An idea is forming but it makes her stomach sink in denial and self-hatred. She doesn’t have the opportunity to pick and choose though. Not anymore. 

The loud bang of a door being kicked down several meters away makes her cringe. “We know you’re here, human!” a voice taunts her. Another bang, another door, closer this time. 

Charlie grits her teeth and pulls out Benny’s phone, her fingers immediately typing and her eyes intent on the screen. After a few tense seconds, she’s punched her way through the security walls of the comm systems and tapped into the entire bunker. She takes a deep breath and she starts to talk. 

“Dean. Dean, I need you.” She chokes on a sob, hating herself for this, for potentially ruining everything Castiel and Gabriel worked so hard for. “Please, Dean, I don’t know what to do anymore. This has always been your specialty.” Her voice is being broadcast through every room and corridor in the bunker. Loud and desperate. “They’ve got the others already and they’re coming for me now. You always told me to stay small and quiet, but it’s not going to work this time. You once said that you would always come when I called. That we were family and that we protect each other. So Dean, please, wake up and help me. I need the real Dean!” She doesn’t want to force him from the peace he’s found during the process of the soul bond, but she needs Dean to not only save them but himself. He’s the only one who can do it.

The door to the room she’s in slams open and three large figures glare at her. She screams and scrambles as far away from them as she can. “Dean Winchester! Do you hear me? I need you!” Charlie shouts into the receiver of the phone seconds before its slapped out of her hand and crushed under a boot heel. She tries to fight the strong hands around her arms and she kicks out, not willing to stop, despite the odds. Something that Dean had taught her. She feels the sharp sting and aching pain of a slap to the side of her face and she cringes as she tastes the blood from her split lip. There’s another slap and finally a blow to her temple that sends her into darkness. The last thought she has is filled with guilt and hope. Dean will come for her. He always does. 

  
  
  
  


_ Dean. Dean, I need you. Please, Dean, I don’t know what to do anymore. This has always been your specialty. They’ve got the others already and they’re coming for me now. You always told me to stay small and quiet, but it’s not going to work this time.  _

Dean stares at the wall in front of him and listens to Charlie. Queen Charlie from Oz. He remembers her smile and the warm smell of citrus. But he’s confused as other memories flash through his mind painfully. Black goo and borax. A witch and green light. Things that don’t fit with building blocks and silly stories. Dean whines low in his throat and presses his hands to his eyes as the pain intensifies. 

_ You once said that you would always come when I called. That we were family and that we protect each other. So Dean, please, wake up and help me.  _

He understands the words but doesn't process them. He stands from his hiding spot behind one of the antique cars and tries to sort through whatever it is that’s happening in his head. The pain ebbs and flows with the rush of memories. Red hair and sunny smiles, red blood and pained expressions. Leviathan. Charlie. Oz. Charlie. Death. Charlie. Love. Charlie. 

He crashes into the side of the car beside him as the pain permeates to every cell of his being. The next second he blinks blankly up at the ceiling as all pain leaves him. 

_ I need the real Dean! _

If anyone were around to see it they would have said it was scary, terrifying even: the way that within the blink of an eye a man can change so drastically. Eyes darken and narrow, muscles tense up, and the firm line of a mouth hardens. Dean Winchester stands up fluidly with no memory of the last few weeks, only the words of Charlie echoing through his head. A familiar anger burning his body and propelling him forward. 

His eyes are pulled down to the bright red light of the mark shining from his arm. He continues to stare for a long minute. He eventually rolls his shoulders back and does an automatic perimeter sweep with his eyes. He reaches for his gun but doesn’t find it. Then one of his knives, then any of his knives, but doesn’t find one. He growls and clenches his teeth when he realizes he’s completely unarmed. 

But a man like Dean Winchester is never not dangerous. Never unprepared. His feet shift him into a low crouch, his ears straining for sounds of any kind. Years and years of training make every action instinctual, every flick of his eyes involuntary. His father raised him on the Marines regiment since he was five. He knew how to dislocate someone’s shoulder and jaw when he was eight. He’d learned how to track and stay quiet by the time he was ten. He could use every gun and knife known to man before he hit middle school. He instinctively knew how to disembowel a man quietly by the time he was fifteen. He’s fought the supernatural for as long as he can remember, so he knows how to fight against someone exponentially more powerful than him. Understands how to use the strength of a foe to his own advantage. He knows the smell and feel of blood and the guilt and fear of survival. He knew them well before most people realize what a crush is. 

His eyes catch on a large wrought iron wrench next to the Impala. He scoops it up and tests the weight of it in his hands. With a shrug, he starts walking back towards the bunker. A feral energy buzzing underneath his skin. It feels familiar, comfortable even. 

He needs to find Charlie. He knows what she would do in this situation and he knows how to do it. Find the control room and access the video files. But the easier way, the way he  _ wants _ to do it, is far more archaic. In that moment it feels purer. 

He finds the first intruder and easily beats the information from him. Three beaten bodies later and he’s well aware where his friends are being kept. A large part of him doesn’t care, the fingers clenched around the bloody wrench feel strong and sure. He’s got a rush of endorphins that leave him feeling lighter than ever before, similar to getting food after a week of starving. He wants to keep going in a part of his body, perhaps even his soul, that is hard to resist on a near molecular level. He wants to break more bones and wring screams from these intruders. Wants to watch the light of life leave their eyes as he thrusts an angel blade through their ribcage. 

But he remembers the panic in Charlie’s voice, and it’s easy to push on.

  
  
  


“What’s he doing?” Seraphiel asks, his eyes on the screen of the dusty computer monitor on one end of the room. Charlie had hacked into the security system once again, under order from Seraphiel, and now everyone is watching as she tracks Dean through the hallways. 

Gabriel winces as Dean breaks the bones of the angels and demons with ease. The man asks questions with a flat tone and demands answers with a practiced air of promised violence. This is Dean Winchester in his element, unaided and angry. So far from the soft boy they’ve been caring for during the last several weeks. 

Seraphiel gestures at the screen and looks back at the small group of captives, “You see? Look what you’ve created!” 

“Oh, please, don’t be overly dramatic,” Crowley says with an eye roll. He’s sat on the floor now, the demon trap around him glowing faintly in the poorly lit room. He manages to somehow look powerful and refined even as he sits on decades of dust on the floor of an abandoned room. “Everyone knows Dean has a darkness in him, that’s not up for debate here.” 

“Then what do you take away from this, demon?” 

Crowley watches the screen with satisfaction as another angel is left in a crumpled heap behind Dean. “Watch him, feather boy. If he was completely under the pull of the mark then he would be leaving a lot more blood and death behind him. He’d have forgotten entirely about Charlie and us. Trust me, I’ve seen the mark at work. Dean loses all touch with reality, his entire being exists for the rush of pain and death. Instead, he’s focused and coming towards us. What does that tell you?” 

Castiel grins and it speaks of great pride and relief. “He’s in control. Confused and angry, but in control,” the angel says. Castiel lets go of some of the weight pushing down on his chest and he breathes deeply to try and calm his human heart rate. There’s an implacable faith in Dean that his grace holds, but no one is ever doubt-free. To have this proof of Dean’s sanity is all he needs. Though a new terror is starting to leak into his mind. Castiel can’t help but be terrified that Dean won’t be able to return to his little mindset, that perhaps this is the end of their efforts to save him.

Seraphiel winces as another of his lower brethren is tossed aside and off screen. He shakes his head as Dean glances at the nearest camera with a sharp grin. “I don’t know when you two became so foolish. Gullible even. This is not a man. This is a monster,” Seraphiel says to Castiel and Gabriel. 

“Our brothers and sisters are more monstrous than Dean,” Castiel insists. “We were perfectly willing to sacrifice the current world for a pointless battle between Michael and Lucifer. We have used humanity to fight wars and prove points for eons. We’ve all fought for power over heaven at some point or another.” 

“You really think Dean wouldn’t do the same?” 

“He wouldn’t. He  _ hasn’t _ . That question has already been answered, Seraphiel.” Castiel stands and paces inside his own angel rune trap and gestures as he speaks. There’s a weariness settling into his bones that makes him want to fall back asleep but he pushes it aside. “Dean was the one who truly believed and found a way to stop the apocalypse. He was the one who had faith in humanity, even the angels when we ourselves didn’t. He’s fought against heaven but never for power. He wants safety for his family, his species, his world. Dean may be violent, but only because the world has only ever shown him the same. That doesn’t make him a monster. That just makes him human. He’s still the most compassionate man I’ve ever known. He doesn’t just want to do what’s right, he’s  _ compelled _ . No matter what the situation.” 

“But he doesn’t do what’s right. He kills and maims and starts nonsense in things he has no place to be.” 

“Dean is a greatly flawed man, but so are we all.” 

“But the rest of us don’t have the same mass effect as this monster,” Seraphiel gestures at the screen. Dean is still moving through the corridors, steadily moving closer to where they are. 

Everyone focuses on the monitor and follows Dean’s movements. The man walks with an unnatural grace. It’s obviously instinctual in a way that humanity hasn’t had a need for since the creation of weapons. Those broken eyes scan every room as he moves through it and each step is calculated and purposeful. He looks like he’s on a hunt and it sends shivers up the spine of everyone present. Except for Crowley, who just watches the screen with pride. He is perhaps the only one in the room who has truly been on the receiving end of Dean’s skills before. He’s familiar with the fear the others are experiencing, and can’t help but feel smug as he watches them struggle with it.

“I think you’re greatest mistake today,” Crowley drawls, “Is thinking that you could actually beat him.” 

A heavy silence falls on the room and Seraphiel doesn’t respond. His eyes are trained on Dean and he can feel his mortal vessel shaking slightly. He scolds himself for such weakness and doubt, but the tremor doesn’t stop and he can’t pull his eyes away from the Winchester. 

“I’m an archangel, he can’t touch me,” Seraphiel decrees. “And I don’t have to  _ beat _ him, I just have to catch him.”

Gabriel snorts out half of a laugh and says mockingly, “Good luck with that, bro.” 

“Seraphiel, listen to me,” Castiel says with obvious dismay and compassion, though it’s unclear is it’s for his archangel brother or Dean. “Leave now, we don’t wish to see you dead. Dean doesn’t allow anything between him and family. That is his strength and weakness. You are currently that thing to be overcome, and you can see how powerful he is.” 

“How powerful you’ve made him!” 

“The grace isn’t giving him much beyond stability and we both know it.” 

“He’s an ape, a human!” 

“He’s so much more. He’s a man of pure intent.” 

“There’s nothing pure about Dean, not anymore.” Seraphiel turns away from the video feed and faces his small audience of captives. “He has the blood of innocents on his hands. He’s tortured, he’s sacrificed, he’s made the wrong choice before. He’s not the person you claim him to be.” 

Crowley rolls his eyes once again and just sighs as he shifts into a more comfortable position, with his legs out straight in front of him, daintily crossed at the ankles. “Dean is the thing that the supernatural world is scared of. He’s the monster under their bed. The warning of mothers to children. He’s the one _ the world _ is scared of, yet he’s the one that proves over and over again to be the  _ only _ one willing to do what is needed to save it. The world needs someone like Dean. It always will.” 

“Dean isn’t that man anymore. He is Cain.” 

“Cain is dead by Dean’s hand. Dean used the First Blade to kill him. He didn’t even want to kill Cain, but he did because he knew the life of an innocent boy was in question. Any mother would do the same. Dean tried to stop the apocalypse to save his family, any brother would do the same. He’s sacrificed the lives of those he loved and hated for the greater good, any general would do the same.” 

“You’re ignoring the problem! Dean is being corrupted!” 

“You wanna know what I see when I look at Dean?” Kevin asks. The boy is glaring at Seraphiel from the corner he’s stood in. The others are surprised by his boldness but know better than to try and interfere. Kevin speaks when he has something to say, then it’s time to listen. 

“What does it matter?” Seraphiel sneers. 

“Because I’m a prophet! Because when I look at you I can see the story of your past and future. I don’t see specifics of your mind but I can see the intent of  _ your _ grace, and I can see the purpose of  _ his _ soul. Even with the red hue of the mark sewn into his being, Dean still shines with one goal above all others. To protect.” Kevin shuffles further into the room, but still hangs far back from the enemy archangel. “When I look at you I see responsibility and intelligence, but also spite.” 

“You don’t live through what I’ve seen and not hold a grudge, prophet. You may see the truth but you are a mere human still, you can’t begin to fathom it.” 

Kevin scoffs and he looks eerily similar to Crowley in that moment. “Please, I got a perfect score on my SATs and I have nearly every important cello sonata memorized and perfected. I could have gotten a full ride scholarship to anywhere I wanted. You can claim a lot of things about me, but don’t understate my intelligence. Age and power don’t grant you vision.” 

“And youth doesn’t grant you genius.” 

“You’re right. I worked for that. Every moment of my short life. And I’ve exceeded expectation. Just like Dean. All of us in this bunker have one thing in common!” 

“The ability to see outside our scripts,” Charlie breathes out, barely audible to the others in the room. 

Kevin nods and adds, “We’ve broken away from what is expected of us because we’ve each seen the truth.” 

“The truth is that you’re harboring a dangerous weapon of heaven.” 

“He’s much more than a weapon,” Castiel protests. 

“The  _ truth _ is that Dean is the one who liberated each of us. The truth is that Dean is the heart behind everything, and  _ that’s _ the sole reason that what we’re doing here, it’ll _ work _ ,” Kevin insists. He’s out of breath by the end of the statement and he looks about ready to throw some punches, but the prophet quickly retreats back to his corner. He glares at Seraphiel and says nothing more. 

The arms master of heaven looks back at the screens and watches Dean stalk through the bunker towards their location. His angel soldiers and demon mercenaries are falling apart before him on screen. He’d assumed that Dean was still only as strong as a man. He’d underestimated how much force he would need to bring Dean to justice, but he can’t turn back now. He knows he’ll never get into the bunker a second time. 

Seraphiel fears this man and that fact makes him furious. “Let him come!” Seraphiel insists. The words feel powerful when he says them but they fall flat in the small room and he can feel every pair of pitying eyes on his back. He clenches his teeth together and draws his angel blade, pacing in a small circle as he waits. He’d never meant to face Dean this way, had planned for his lackeys to grab him and Seraphiel would take him away in restraints to be locked away forever. Seraphiel is starting to realize that Dean won’t allow that to happen. 

The archangel wishes once again that the mark had found someone else. Anyone other than Dean Winchester. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean suffer from side effects of the interrupted soul bond and Seraphiel is forced to reconsider some things.

Benny’s confused. Like beyond confused and in the realm of completely and utterly overwhelmed. Things have been happening at a rapid pace and his worry for Dean is rising at an even faster rate. Things have never been easy for Dean, as far as Benny’s gathered, but this seems even more extreme than usual.

The vampire does find some comfort in the fact that everyone here, save Seraphiel and his cronies, seems to be just as desperate to help Dean. Benny mentally admits that it’s actually rather nice to see Castiel falling all over himself to help Dean, after all that time in purgatory where Dean was the one doing everything in his power to find the angel. He’s had some doubts about the ever stoic Castiel, but all those thoughts disappeared when he saw the angel and Dean hand in hand earlier. They both looked at peace even in that moment of confusion.

Benny glances over at the angel in question now and sees no such peace of mind. In fact, Castiel looks like he’s about to faint. Benny shuffles a couple of steps closer to the angel and asks, “You doin’ okay there, Cas?”

Castiel waves him off, his eyes still on the screen showing Dean’s progress, but he says, “I’m fine.” The hand that Castiel raises in his direction is shaking visibly and Benny narrows his eyes as he watches the minute trembles move through the angel’s entire frame. 

“Like hell you are.” Benny may have put the shaking down to nerves, but Castiel’s skin is pale and there are black bruises forming under blue eyes as he watches. “Something’s wrong, Cas.”

Benny turns to look at the other angel, or archangel or whatever, to find Gabriel already looking intently at his brother. “He’s right, bro, you don’t look so good.”

Castiel sends an angry look toward his older brother before his eyes snap back to the computer screen, unwilling to look away from Dean for more than a second. “What’s it matter?”

Benny can see Castiel paling even faster and he rushes forward a moment before the angel collapses. He manages to slow Castiel’s descent slightly, but they both end up on the ground in rather haphazard positions.

“Your grace doesn’t look right,” Kevin says from next to Benny. The vampire hadn’t noticed his approach, but he gladly accepts Kevin’s help in keeping Castiel sitting up. Castiel still hasn’t taken his eyes away from the monitor.

“It’s the bond,” Seraphiel says easily. Everyone but Charlie glances over at Seraphiel at the words. The redhead is still focused on tracking Dean, only giving Castiel a cursory glance before she turns back to the keyboard, trusting the others to take care of the angel.

“What do you mean?” Benny asks, seemingly the only one present who isn’t understanding the connection.

“Like I said earlier, Castiel barely has enough grace to even maintain his status as an angel, and now he’s trying to funnel it into Dean Winchester.” Seraphiel looks in pity at his lesser brother. “It’s killing you, Castiel. All the more reason to do away with the Winchester.”

“No!” Castiel cries out in rage. “I’d die a thousand times over for him.”

“That much is obvious.” Seraphiel glances between the different members of the group with disdain and even more pity. “Doesn’t mean it’ll work. Dean’s soul will keep pulling the grace from you until you have nothing left to give, brother. Cain is a parasite.”

“For the last time, he isn’t Cain!” Gabriel retorts, but his brown eyes are wide and scared as they look over Castiel’s slumped frame. 

"I'm just trying to help you see the truth," Seraphiel says with a tone of great suffering. 

"Guys!" Charlie calls out in a panic. Every head turns to look at her with mixed emotions. She gestures wildly at the screen before her and everyone does their best to see around her flailing. 

Benny manages to catch the fuzzy image of a bent over Dean who has blue energy literally crackling around his body. Benny glances back at Castiel to notice the angel's blue grace shining slightly through his eyes. It really is the connection. "Is he okay?" the vampire asks. He's not ashamed in the slightest to say that his concern is entirely with Dean and not Castiel. The angel has very little impact in Benny's eyes beyond the obvious ramifications it will have on Dean. 

Seraphiel is watching the screen with an intensity that Benny is far from comfortable with. He wants to deck the archangel but knows it won't do much and won't get him anything in the long run. He has to physically bite his lip to stop himself from just snarling though as Seraphiel's expression melts into a smirk. "Maybe this won't be so impossible after all. Castiel here only has so much energy to give his boy, and when the angel battery runs out, then perhaps so will the infamous Winchester." 

"You can't stall forever," Crowley says with a sneer and a heavy layer of disdain, but Benny can tell there's concern there. 

"I don't have to. Castiel is barely functioning as it is, it won't be long now." Seraphiel turns away from the group and his attention seems to fall inwards. Benny wonders what he's doing and contemplates attacking the exposed back. Instead, he walks over to stare at the monitor with Charlie, and they both watch Dean fall to his knees as blue energy snakes around his arm and up into his chest. Benny notices a small black body sat near Dean's left leg and raises an eyebrow in confused amusement when he realizes he's staring at the kitten from before. That amusement quickly disappears as the latest beaten down body behind Dean begins to shift and move. Dean is too caught up in the apparent pain of the grace to notice, but Charlie and Benny both watch helplessly as a large man rolls over onto his side and glares at Dean's back. 

 

 

Dean doesn't understand what's happening anymore, not that he really did half an hour ago, but searing heat keeps surging through his body and leaving his muscles weak and trembling. He can see the sparks of blue coming from him but doesn't have the slightest idea what it's from or what's causing it. There's an eerie red glow around the edges of his vision, that supplies a steady backdrop to the blue, as the mark pulses with his heartbeat. That much he understands. The taste of blood is sweet on his tongue and he doesn't know if it's imaginary or real, if it's supposed to be his or someone else's. 

He uses one hand to support himself as he stumbles through the bunker hallways and curses whatever luck brought his friends to be trapped on the other side of their home. Couldn't be somewhere convenient. Of course not. His arm aches with a terrible pain that's more than just muscle deep. It feels like an endless adrenaline shot that's sending his heart into overtime. He can barely hear what's going on around him over the thunderous thud of his heart in his chest. 

He tries to push the pain to the back of his awareness, he's used to doing that. It helps him push onwards, but it doesn't make the pain any less severe. Doesn't make the exhaustion any less apparent. He's a Winchester though, which means he damn well knows how to push through pain. 

A few steps further and his knees give out on him as a wave of agony tears at something deep in his chest. He feels like he's moments away from both burning up and falling into oblivion. The blue is even more noticeable as he looks down at the mark, red and blue swirling together to create a sickening display of power that he doesn't quite recognize. Something about the blue  _ is  _ familiar though. Makes him think of lilac. And honey. 

Castiel. The thought drives what little breath Dean still has out of his lungs. His head hangs down in realization and he closes his eyes in anger at the familiar pinpricks of coming tears. Charlie needs him. Castiel needs him. Gabriel and Kevin and Crowley. They all need him and it's a familiar, if not crushing, weight of responsibility that puts even more strain on his taxed body. He's tired of being the one who has to defy all odds. He's so tired. Exhausted. Drained of life and running on only a self-imposed purpose. 

He can hear the shifting of a body behind him but no amount of willpower makes his muscles work to turn him around. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end as the feeling of danger intensifies, but not a muscle moves in response. Fury begins to percolate through the haze of his mind and it makes the searing heat of the mark burn deeper. This isn't how he's going to die, on his knees and helpless. He shifts slightly to the side and turns his head just enough to catch the movements of a large body moving to sit up. 

The soft footfalls that he's been hearing for some time now dart away from his side and he watches the small creature claw out the throat of the man who’d just shifted to attack him. Dean blinks in incomprehension for a long moment and just watches the kitten lick blood from its paws. 

He gently pats the small head of the kitten and tries to not be unnerved by those red eyes. He's never been a fan of dogs, just another quirk he picked up from his father, but he can't stand the beasts after the hellhound debacle. He knows that's what's looking back at him. Those red eyes are unmistakable, but this body is so much smaller and leaner. He feels he could easily crush the kitten's skull in one hand, and for one awful minute he feels tempted to, the mark pulls at his thoughts and whispers encouragement. 

He bites through his bottom lip in his internal fight and quickly pulls away from the animal. The kitten doesn't seem offended and just pushes into his leg further, the force of its purring so strong that he can feel it in the mark as well as his bones. It helps quell some of the overwhelming pain and desire to destroy something. Provides Dean with something other than the poisonous thoughts being whispered to him. He picks up the small creature and cradles the thing to his chest as he forces himself back to his feet. He keeps stumbling forward after he catches his breath and hopes that this is almost over. He could really use some sleep. Just any time away from the pull of the mark would be a miracle. 

The further he walks the more the blue sparks become a true distraction. They're not constant but they come and go in painful flashes that leave his vision blurry. The bunker has never seemed so incredibly expansive before. He feels like he's been walking for hours and his body is begging to just let go and fall into the bliss of unconsciousness. Though he's unlikely to be able to sleep without the disturbance of memories and nightmares. 

He focuses on the small life he holds in his hands and consciously tunes back into those forceful vibrations. It lulls him. 

 

 

 

Castiel can barely see the monitor anymore, forced to sit down on the ground as his strength is sapped from him. He can see enough to see that Dean is feeling the repercussions as well. The boy is periodically consumed by blue energy and each step is an obvious battle of wills. Castiel wants to break something and for the first time, he feels a deep and unconditional hatred for Seraphiel, one of his brethren. He's never wanted to truly hurt any of his brothers or sisters before, but this is beyond unforgivable. Castiel was finally able to give Dean something he deserves and now it's being taken away from the Winchester. From Castiel and the others. 

Seraphiel has been growing visibly more and more excited as he watches the scene play out in front of him and Castiel can see a plan forming in their head. Right now even just breathing is becoming a chore but he manages to choke out, "Seraphiel, this isn't your fight." 

Seraphiel turns with a slightly manic grin and retorts, "Oh, but I'm just beginning to think it could be." 

"Just because Dean is hurting doesn't mean a damn thing," Charlie insists through the tears running down her face. Castiel wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort her, but he can't feel his body properly.

Kevin shifts from where he's sitting behind Castiel, holding the angel up, and says, "If you've really done your homework or whatever like you said, then you already know that." 

"This is Father reaching out and helping me, prophet. This is a sign that what I am doing here today is needed." 

"Don't flatter yourself, it's just a sign of good luck," Crowley growls out. He's stood up from his reclined position and is now pacing in the small amount of space allotted to him. "Only the weak rely on such frivolities." 

Seraphiel just laughs in response and every individual in the room tenses in anger at the noise. Charlie wants to swing around and stab an angel blade through his neck, but she doesn't have one, and she knows she wouldn't win. Not in this setting. Not in her mindset. She feels like she's breaking down in slow motion, each stumble and expression of confusion that comes from Dean is tearing painfully at her control. She's half certain that Castiel and Gabriel would be able to see the effect on her soul if they just looked. 

"What is that thing he's carrying around, anyway?" Seraphiel asks with a scoff of disdain as he pauses in his pacing to check back in on the Winchester. Seraphiel leans closer to the screen to watch the black form lick Dean's chin. "Is that a cat?" His tone reveals complete bafflement and if it wasn't Dean on the screen she was watching, Charlie may have found it funny. 

"What does it matter?" Crowley asks in over the top exasperation. Charlie's eyes flick over to the demon but he's glaring at Seraphiel. Charlie thinks back to the images that she and Benny had seen. Of that small ball of fluff slashing out and defending a downed Dean. She doesn't know how much such a small creature can do against an archangel, but she's sure as hell not going to give away any information that could ever possibly help Dean. The archangel seems to buy the distraction though because he merely shrugs and smirks. 

"You're right. Your rescue team seems to be lagging, my brothers. It was never in the cards for Cain to--" 

"He's not Cain!" four voices shout at the same time. Castiel smiles feebly, having mentally yelled the same thing, but not having the energy to vocalize the sentiment. Benny still looks confused to what that truly means, but it's heartwarming to see the protectiveness of Charlie, Kevin, Gabriel, and Crowley. 

"Having personally known Cain, I can vouch for that statement. Dean handles the job much better," Crowley drawls. His voice doesn't betray the obvious tension throughout his body, but that's always been a skill that Crowley has used. People are what Crowley is good at. Keeping control. It's one of Dean's specialties too. 

The sentence actually gives Seraphiel pause and he turns to study the demon fully, his attention temporarily diverted from Dean's progression. "What does that mean?" 

Crowley smiles and it's clear that he's wanted Seraphiel's attention for a while. "I mean, Dean takes his duties as the only remaining knight of hell more seriously." 

"What?!" Seraphiel nearly shrieks. 

"Oh, you know, the guy has a knack for management." Crowley thinks about all the uprisings that Dean has managed to completely break down in just the few months that he's been helping Crowley. The king doesn't expect Dean to do much besides look out for the best of the world. He's not asking Dean to reap souls or make bargains. No, Dean just helps Crowley with the resistance in some of the individuals under Crowley's control. It's in everyone's best interest for Crowley to stay on top. Crowley knows how to keep everything in control and in balance. Hell has never run smoother, and neither has earth. 

"You mean that Dean Winchester is helping the  _ king of hell _ terrorize civilization?" Seraphiel looks outraged and looks between Castiel and Gabriel as if waiting for some sort of confession. 

"Not in the slightest. He's helped put down some unrest in hell though. Avoided some civil wars that would have ended in a high number of civilian casualties, not to mention yours truly." Crowley thinks about all the long nights he and Dean have shared. The drinks they've talked over, about family and about duty. About balance and human nature. They don't always agree, but they've always kept a healthy respect for each other. Something that Crowley even today cannot possibly express his gratitude for. 

"He's right, Seph," Gabriel entreats. "The balance between heaven and hell has never been so...well,  _ balanced _ ." 

"There is no heaven anymore, Gabriel. Not the heaven that we used to have. Our home has been ransacked by the humans and the Winchesters." 

"Heaven was destroyed by the angels, Seph. You know it and we all know it. We started a battle we had no right to wage." 

"We are humanity's keepers, we had every right!" Seraphiel has stepped up to the very edge of Gabriel's angel rune prison to shout into the shorter man's face. 

"We manipulated everyone involved. If father had--"

"Don't speak to me of father!" Seraphiel turns away from Gabriel in disgust and begins his pacing once again. "I am the one that was cast out for nothing. I am the one who has returned despite that injustice and I am the one trying to do right by the tatters of our home! What claim to his name do you have?" 

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders, "As much as he has to mine. Which is to say, none." 

Seraphiel steps up close to the edge of the border again and snarls at Gabriel. It looks as if the archangels will come to blows before Seraphiel glances up at the runes and takes a step back. They smirk and say, "You're the only one here who could have possibly stood up to me, Gabriel, and you fell so easily. You are a fool in more than one way." 

Gabriel looks chastised for a moment and his regret is clear for everyone to see, but his eyes are bright with something like malicious glee as he looks at Seraphiel once again. "Maybe, wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of such, but you're still wrong. Because I'm not the only one who can put you in your place." 

Gabriel watches as his archangel sibling studies him for a long moment with confusion. The expression eventually disappears in realization and they say, "You mean the Winchester." They turn back to the monitor to watch Dean stumble to his knees once again, the kitten falling to the ground in front of him with a worried meow. "I will admit, at first I was nervous. But perhaps this has all been for the best. I can capture Cain today and remove his blight from the world." 

"Dean won't be easy to kill," Charlie warns, but there's obvious concern in her voice. "He's killed werewolves and spirits and angels and gods." 

"Look at him, human. He can barely walk. No, this is a sign, and I will carry through my duty. Besides, I don’t need to kill him, just restrain him. Though I could kill Dean and deal with the demon instead. That may be easier." 

Castiel sucks in a deep breath, as deep as he can manage at least, and warns, "You'd be making a mistake." 

"How so?" 

Castiel tries to say something else but it ends in a barely there mumble. Kevin's eyes tear up though and he glares at Seraphiel as he relays the words. "Family doesn't give up on family." 

Benny speaks for the first time in a long time and his drawl breaks up the air of the room. "Meanin', I believe, that ya' can't get away without consequences." 

"And what will these consequences be then?" Seraphiel looks around in apparent delight, the intruding archangel had come in here with regret for hurting his brothers but now there's a righteous anger fueling him. He’d come here to do his duty. Dean Winchester must be stopped, and hearing these fools wax poetic about the man is...vexing to say the least. 

"We are," Gabriel replies with confidence. 

The words send a small shiver through Seraphiel's body for a short moment. He remembers the ruthlessness of Gabriel from his trickster days. Is reminded that Castiel is one of the best soldiers heaven has ever created, proven by the fact that the angel is still alive despite everything. 

Seraphiel glances over at Castiel's fading form and can see the angel's last vestiges of grace dissipating. No. The great lone soldier will soon be gone, and Dean’s strength along with him. Instead of verbally replying, Seraphiel marches over to the computer and studies the screen. He eventually says, "He's close enough, I will finish this now." The sound of the door locking loudly behind the retreating form is the last sign of Seraphiel's presence. 

"What do we do?" Kevin asks the room at large. "He's going after Dean now, what do we do?" 

Silence meets his question as they consider their truly astounding lack of options. 

"We need to break the runes," Gabriel says slowly, looking up at the ceiling. The bunker is made of reinforced concrete, every wall a couple of feet thick. Kevin or Charlie or Benny won't be able to break it. The runes are drawn in angel blood but are shining with power now, they can't slash through them. They'll fade eventually with time, but that's not something they have. A quick glance at Castiel's trap shows the same thing. 

Gabriel looks at Crowley's trap and is hit with the realization that it's just a normal demon trap. No angel mumbo jumbo. Seraphiel must not have taken the threat of the demon very seriously. It'll still be hard to break, but not impossible. Gabriel looks at Kevin's panicked expression and Charlie's not quite hidden terror and says softly, "Here's the plan." 

  
  
  



	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seraphiel and Dean come face to face and the soul bond reaches a breaking point.

Dean's reasonably confident that he's taken care of all the seemingly random individuals who are popping out of nowhere to attack him, that or at least they've stopped attacking. Probably because he's left behind a path of broken bodies. 

With each strike or broken bone, he can feel the claws of the mark sinking into him, slashing at things in his mind. There's another power there that he can tell belongs to his angel, though he's not sure how he knows that. Whatever it is, it's losing the battle against the goddamn mark. 

Dean grunts and leans against the wall as another powerful spasm seizes his body. He tries to ignore the pain and focus on clearing his mind, but he's never been good at not thinking. The mark latches onto every thought and every intent and tries to twist it to its liking. The further he falls into the mark the less it hurts but the wrongness that permeates from within him is the only warning he needs. This is different than all the other times the mark has tried to take him down, Dean gets a distinct feeling that if he gives in now, there won't be any going back. 

Dean slides down the side of the wall as the muscle jerking becomes too painful and too unstable to remain standing. He blinks groggily as two blood red eyes swim into view. The cat. Right. He forgot about it again. He closes his eyes as the pain begins to fade away, though he knows it'll be back. Without opening them he asks the cat, "So where'd you come from, anyway?" His voice sounds shredded and he wonders if he's been screaming without his notice. 

The cat, of course, doesn't answer, though he wouldn't have been surprised if it had. Instead, the small creature just pushes its head into Dean's chest and takes up its nearly violent purring once again. Dean hums along with the vibration and waits for his legs to stop shaking quite so badly. The spasms may have stopped for now, but each one leaves his muscles weaker than the last. 

"We're almost there at least, buddy." It's the only comfort he has at the moment, that he's only a few corridors away from the room his family is being kept in. He knows he should have more of a plan than...well, kick the door down and get them back, but he can't focus long enough to come up with anything. He sighs and scoops the cat up gingerly in his arms and chuckles ever so slightly when the kitten makes a happy mewling sound. He then spends nearly a full minute using the wall to leverage himself back to his feet. He then begins to stumble along, mindlessly commenting to the cat at times, mostly to keep him in the present. He finds it helps, and the small inquisitive noises the cat sends back make him smile.

 

 

"Hurry up, guys! He's almost made it to Dean!" Charlie says urgently. 

"I can go help him," Benny says, but his words are waved off by Gabriel. 

"No," the archangel says. "You wouldn't stand a chance and Dean would hate us if we let you die." 

"Just get the damn trap open, you idiots!" Crowley growls as he paces in a circle inside his trap. Kevin and Benny are both on the ground trying to scratch a line through it to release the demon, but there are no tools in the room to help them. Kevin is scratching with his fingernails over and over again though it's slow progress. Benny stands up and begins just dragging his boot through the line which helps a little bit, but not much. 

"What the hell'd they paint this with?" Benny huffs out. 

"It's probably got some sort of protection spell or something," Gabriel murmurs, he's clearly distracted. Gabriel stares off into space trying to keep track of where Seraphiel is at any time. He can see the other archangel's signature light moving rapidly closer to Dean's, and he wants to scream. He's stuck here while Dean is being cornered. 

"I got it!" Kevin yells in triumph. Crowley shoves the boy out of the way in the next moment to get out of the trap, but Kevin just falls to his side in acceptance, still shaking slightly from the adrenaline that must be running through all of them. 

Crowley brushes off his shoulders and straightens his jacket before he looks up at the ceiling and waves his hand at Gabriel's runed trap. The ceiling fissures before cracking across the entire image and the glowing runes fade into a lackluster red of dried blood. Gabriel immediately runs across the room to Castiel, only pausing to snap his fingers and send another crack through the other runed trap on the ceiling. 

"Hey, bro, talk to me," Gabriel says as he falls to his knees beside the downed figure of Castiel. 

Castiel blinks his eyes open and Gabriel's stomach drops at the vacant expression in them. Despite his apparent exhaustion Castiel manages to speak. "Not enough grace." 

"What?" 

"Dean. Just---the blood---same." Castiel loses the fight with consciousness and his eyes flicker shut, hiding any view of those wide blue eyes. 

"We have to go, feathers! Now!" Crowley blows the door off its hinges and strides through the deformed frame. Charlie, Kevin, and Benny on his heels. Gabriel pauses though and looks down at Castiel in fear and confusion. Did Castiel mean what he thinks he meant? Castiel's blood hadn't been powerful enough to sustain Dean. Perhaps Castiel's grace also won't be enough. But how can Gabriel possibly sink his grace into Dean without their consent? What if he's making assumptions that aren't true? 

Gabriel stays behind to give Castiel the boost of energy he needs to keep his brother alive. 

 

 

Dean rounds the corner and is blasted back into the wall with no warning. He crashes into the cement side of the hallway and groans as he hits the ground a moment later. He realizes he's dropped the cat and he looks around himself panicked for a moment. His attention is torn away from his search however as a figure steps around the corner into full view. 

"Cain," they say. 

Dean squints at the body without noticing any detail, distracted by the shine of angelic grace. Dean can't really see the grace but it feels like out of the corner of his eye he can spot the shadows of it on the wall. He doesn’t remember having ever been able to see something like that, must be a part of whatever the hell is happening inside him.

"Who are you?" Dean demands though the question comes out weaker than he wanted. Dean forces his body to stand and tries to shake the spots out of his vision. 

"Seraphiel. And you are Cain. I am here to make sure the curse will be stopped." 

"Wait, what? I thought it couldn't be broken? The mark is permanent." Dean refuses to allow the small amount of hope inside his chest to expand. This Seraphiel doesn't look friendly and Dean's never believed in easy solutions. 

""Of course it can be broken. It will end with you." 

"End with me?" Dean knows he's not working at top capacity right now and his brain feels like he's trying to think through a fog thicker than water. "You mean you're going to kill me, don't you?" A familiar resignation flows through him and relaxes his strained muscles. This is familiar ground, this he can deal with. "A lot of people have tried that, you know." The statement isn't full of his normal bravado. He's too tired to pull it off and he can feel another surge of the blue power coming. 

He closes his eyes and slides back down the wall as the pain hits him and every muscle in his body begins to seize. It feels like being torn apart on an atomic level and Dean's pretty sure this is the worst episode he's had yet. The blue and red are still dancing across his vision despite his eyes being clenched shut. He can taste blood in his mouth and absently hopes he didn't bite his own tongue off. That would be beyond ironic. 

His hearing is gone except for the crackling and the faraway echo of what sounds like an ocean or perhaps strong wind. It's just a background soundtrack to the agony coursing through his body. 

The first thing he feels that isn't pain is the slightest pressure on his chest. Then his body begins to vibrate, moving from his chest out and he understands. The cat is back. He groans as he tries to blink his eyes open and he sees flashes of movement that just make his head pound. His hearing is slowly starting to trickle back and he recognizes the angry yelling of a king and the panicked rambling of two twenty-year-olds. 

The realization hits him in the chest and leaves him breathless. He uses shaking arms to push himself into a sitting position and he stares in wide-eyed horror at the sight in front of him. An archangel bearing down on a downed Crowley with an angel blade in hand. Dean doesn't think he just reacts. He heaves himself up and tackles the archangel by the legs sending both of them sprawling across the room. Dean sees Benny's still body off to the side and he quickly looks away, unable to face whatever truth lies there with him. 

A few heartbeats later Kevin is next to him and pulling Dean up with surprising strength. The prophet is saying something to him but Dean's focus is on Seraphiel who’s on his feet and coming toward the two of them. Dean scans the room for Charlie but doesn't see her, though he's sure he heard her both her and Kevin earlier. His thoughts are ripped away from the redhead when Seraphiel takes a lunge towards him, swiping with the angel blade. Dean has to fall over backward, nearly taking Kevin down with him, to avoid the attack. 

He doesn't have enough time to get back to his feet and he catches the flash of silver above him and knows the blade is coming down toward him. He wonders if the archangel has a plan beyond this, because last time he died by angel blade it didn't take. 

"Stop!" Kevin shouts. Dean's body jerks in recognition and worry spreads through his nerves like pain. 

Dean attempts to roll away, but then there's a pained grunt from above him and Dean's eyes fly up to latch on the angel blade, tinged red and protruding through Kevin's chest. 

Kevin falls back toward Dean who instinctively catches the smaller man, careful to not jostle the wound or let Kevin hurt himself any further. Seraphiel looks winded and astonished and genuinely terrified. "I just killed a prophet. A  _ prophet."  _ Seraphiel continues to mumble to himself and back away from Kevin and Dean, which is undoubtedly the only reason that Dean hasn’t been stabbed through the chest as well as he’s in no position to defend himself. Not with Kevin dying in his arms.

Dean glances around in a panic but doesn't see Crowley or Charlie anywhere, nonetheless the two celestial beings that live in this bunker. "Where’s Cas?" Dean shouts, though there is no answer. He looks back down at Kevin to watch in horror as Kevin coughs up some blood that stains his lips a red that Dean is all too familiar with. "No, no, no. This isn't happening. This can't happen." 

Seraphiel is suddenly beside them and kneeling down next to them. "Come with me, Cain or the rest will suffer the same." Dean notices the archangel's hands are shaking and his eyes are a bit too wide to be controlled. 

Dean wants nothing more than to grab the blade in Kevin’s chest and bury it in Seraphiel’s. Dean has only felt rage like this a few times in his life. When Sam died the first time, back at that farm to the hands of a desperate man. Or when Castiel nearly died to the powers of heaven. When that witch struck Charlie with the spell meant for Dean. 

It’s an anger that burns even hotter than the mark, something he didn't think was possible. He wants to make this mad angel suffer. The mark burns and yearns for the same thing, which is why instead Dean says, “Heal him and I’ll go with you." Seraphiel looks surprised by the answer and gives Dean a short but searching look. 

Kevin's eyes flutter open and he croaks out, "No, Dean." Dean bends to place a heavy kiss on Kevin's forehead and doesn't reply, just looks up at Seraphiel in expectation. Hands reach out to place themselves on Kevin's chest and Dean slowly pulls the blade out, mumbling reassurances and apologies to Kevin all the while trying to quell the instinct to kill the threat. The moment after Seraphiel's hands touch cloth, the archangel is thrown across the room by a wave of energy that Dean automatically recognizes. 

"Gabe!" Dean shouts, looking around wildly to find him. Gabriel appears in front of the two of them half a second later and he places two shaking hands, not that dissimilar to Seraphiel's, to the chest. A warm glow of light radiates from Kevin's broken body and Dean watches in amazement and relief as the wound shuts in front of him. Kevin smiles weakly at them before his eyes close and he falls into unconsciousness. "No! Gabe, you fixed him, right?!" 

Gabriel barely gives the downed prophet a glance as he replies, "He's fine. His body is just tired." Gabriel stands abruptly and Dean finally sees the expression on the other's face. He's never seen Gabriel look so...furious. His wings are on display in dark shadows and his warm whiskey eyes are flickering with barely restrained power. Dean blinks in confusion when Crowley is suddenly next to him. The king gives him a strained smirk before he disappears once again with Kevin in tow. Dean swallows and with a groan of pain he stands up and places himself next to Gabriel. 

Seraphiel is staring at them all in shock, halfway across the room from them. The intruder stands up shakily and holds up their hands. "Listen, Gabriel," Seraphiel starts. 

Gabriel interrupts and says, "You've broken into my home and threatened those I hold dear, brother mine. Why would I ever listen to you?" 

Seraphiel's eyes narrow slightly and he pulls out another angel blade from somewhere on his person. Both archangels square up against each other and Dean can feel the energy crackling around them all. He wonders how that’s possible. "I know you're powerful, Gabriel, but your power has never come from combat. You're a trickster, or so I’ve heard. We did wonder where you'd gotten off to all that time ago." 

Gabriel's jaw clenches but there's no other outward sign of his anger or hurt. "Leave, Seraphiel. Never come back." Gabriel issues the warning with as much intent as he can, which as an enraged archangel, is really quite a bit. "Crowley's already dealt with all the other intruders, they've all been carted off to hell. You're alone." 

"As beings of superior power, we are often alone, brother." 

"Maybe that's your problem, Seph," Gabriel replies coldly. "You don't understand the cause and effect of support and family." 

"I was expelled from my family!" 

Dean falls to the floor on all fours as another surge of blue and red flashes through him, taking his sight away from him completely. But there's a new sensation, one of connectedness and...closeness. He startles as a familiar hand comes down on his shoulder and he stifles a sob as some of the pain leaches out of him. "Cas?" Dean whispers in awe, the black in his vision fading away to show the scene before him.

"Dean," is all Castiel says. Castiel looks worse for wear and his skin is the palest Dean's ever seen it. His wings are visible in the shadows but they look weak and broken, sagging to the floor. Dean sits up through the pain and pulls his angel into his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his temple as he does so. 

"Cassie, I told you to stay put," Gabriel grinds out, though his eyes never leave Seraphiel. 

"I can help. Dean needs my grace." 

"He needs you to stay alive, is what he needs!" 

"You're all doomed!" Seraphiel booms. 

"Oh, shut up!" Crowley drawls, his figure appearing with a small whiff of smoke. He's leaning nonchalantly against the side of the wall, but his tension is easy to see. A demon in a room of three angels, not exactly the safest space for him. 

"Stay out of things that don't concern you, demon!" Seraphiel snaps. 

Crowley doesn't look particularly impressed by the retort but he looks to Gabriel for the next move. "Your decision featherbrain." 

"No, it isn't! It is mine!" Seraphiel shouts. He slashes his arm through the air in a movement that Dean isn't familiar with, and then a bright light explodes across the room. Dean's vision is once again gone completely and he pulls Castiel further into his body. He can hear Gabriel grumbling and shifting next to him and Crowley cursing up a storm further away. 

Gabriel cries out in pain and Dean is moving in response before the sound ends. He lets go of Cas and kicks out, just to the side of Gabriel and connects with something solid. Seraphiel hits the ground a few feet away and Dean is moving again before he can think. His vision begins to clear, but it's still incredibly blurred and lurching as he steps over Gabriel, though how much of that is from the light or from whatever the hell is going on with him is unknown. The angel blade that had been driven into Kevin's body is still clutched in his hand and spins it idly and expertly between his fingers. The other supernaturals around him must have been affected more harshly by the light, because they're not regaining their senses, or perhaps he’s just used to working through less than ideal situations. 

Dean doesn’t see the attack coming, but he can feel it and he spins to catch Seraphiel’s weapon on the edge of his own, swinging around in a smooth motion and knocking Seraphiel back and away from them all. "You wanted a fight? Fine." Dean strikes out, faster than any man should be able to move, and he gives himself over to the familiar rhythm of battle, one he’s always known. Seraphiel is keeping up with him, but it's not easy on either of them. Dean's vision is showing him doubles and triples of the archangel, but Dean knows how to use and adapt to the rest of his senses. He can hear each minute movement Seraphiel makes. 

He can hear Gabriel saying something to him from behind him, but it’s incomprehensible over his own panicked thoughts and the sounds of the fight. Seraphiel isn’t as good a fighter as Castiel or as powerful as Gabriel, but Dean is still struggling to keep up with each swipe and jab. The electric blue is teasing at his nerves, leaving them tingling with pain and apprehension.

There is one thing he knows beyond the battle, and that’s Castiel. He doesn’t know how or why but he can feel Castiel slipping away from him. That feeling of connection he’d discovered earlier is beginning to fade away. He can't see his angel, doesn't even fully know where Castiel is, but the blue power that Dean knows belongs to Castiel, is beginning to wane, leaving his body and leaving him open to the mark's efforts. He's not scared about the mark, that seems to be inevitable, but he'll be damned if he lets anything hurt Castiel. 

In Dean’s distraction over Castiel, Seraphiel manages to land a harsh hit to his side, and Dean stumbles to the ground. His grip on the angel blade is sure and strong, however, and he rolls with his momentum and back to his feet, turning back to his adversary with a smirk. He taunts the archangel even as his eyes scan the room to find Castiel, “You angels always talk such big game. Performance issues?” The blue flickers worryingly inside him and he clenches his teeth in an effort to keep the anxiety at bay.

The blue falls away and Dean feels an alarming drop in his stomach that leaves him gasping and nauseous. “Cas!” he shouts without realizing. The mark is expanding to fill every space inside him now that the blue has receded but all he can think of is Castiel and how he’s about to lose the love of his life, and he doesn’t even know why. 

“Father forgive me,” Gabriel murmurs before slapping his hand to Dean’s chest and pushing his grace into the human. There’s no finesse to it and he knows it could kill Dean, but if he hesitates any longer he’ll lose both Dean and his brother. Dean’s eyes shine bright with the blue energy of two angels’ graces. Gabriel, Seraphiel, and Crowley shield their eyes as light bursts forth from Dean’s being, bright as his soul always has been, and humming with the power of heaven. 

For one glorious moment, all the pain drops away from Dean. Then his teeth start to buzz and his fingernails itch and then the agony is back in waves even worse than before. As Gabe steps away from Dean the intensity of the lightning inside and around and about him goes into overdrive. It’s different this time, Dean can feel two separate entities inside him, one of which he knows is Castiel and the other of which must be Gabriel. The surge of power from Gabriel has lent Castiel’s grace the strength to keep fighting. Dean nearly sobs from the relief of feeling both angels there and alive and with him. 

Alongside the comforting presence of his angels is the heat of the mark scorching at everything it touches, red and steaming. Dean cries out as the powers inside him tear at each other and himself. 

He can see the vague movements of Gabriel and Seraphiel fighting once again in front of him. He longs to help but the world is mere shadows around him and Dean’s starting to understand just what kind of battle is going on inside him. Knows that if the grace gifted to him doesn’t win this fight then it’s all over for all of them, and that thought is terrifying.

“What have you done?” Seraphiel shouts in horror. 

Gabriel stumbles from his defensive position and frowns at the feeling of his grace being pulled away from him so voraciously. He swallows heavily and looks over at Dean and then Castiel. This isn’t what he thought it’d feel like, a soul bond. It should be a positive connection, not whatever this is. 

Gabriel barely manages to deflect the next blow Seraphiel sends his way, too busy trying to hold onto the power of his grace and stop it from flowing out of him and over to Dean. It’s draining him far too fast to be right. It’s a sickening sensation of his spiritual presence being dissected and torn apart. Is this what Castiel had been feeling? What was happening? 

Dean falls down to his knees once again as he tries to fight through the overlapping feelings sweeping through his body and mind. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he can tell something’s wrong. 

Dean hunches over in pain and horror as he ‘watches’ the mark pull harshly at the grace the angels rare sending rushing through him. Thanks to the new bonds he can feel the strength leaving Gabe by the second and can feel the way Castiel is barely holding onto his angel status. The mark crackles with potential catastrophe as it pulls and pulls all the grace into the red-hot heat of the curse. It uses the grace to power itself, but Dean can sense an edge to the mark’s actions. The grace is a threat and the mark is trying its best to eradicate it. The grace is powering the mark but it’s not something the heat inside him can keep up indefinitely. It’s a race to the end to see which power source will outlive the other.

Dean’s focus is pulled outward when he hears Gabe cry out in pain. He looks up just in time to see his archangel roll away from the slash of Seraphiel’s angel blade. His body reacts once again on instinct as he pushes between the two angels, a desperation to protect Gabriel overtaking everything else. He feels like he’s nothing but a ball of instinct and confusion at this point. 

As he moves he sees flashes of scenes before his eyes: Gabriel cooking him macaroni and giving him pie, stuffed dragons that he doesn’t recognize but feels a deep fondness for, and a bathroom with moving murals on the walls. Dean shakes away the seemingly unrelated thoughts and kicks out at Seraphiel, connecting solidly with the archangel’s chest and sending the being flying several meters back and crashing into the ground. 

Seraphiel is stunned that the human can still move. That the man standing above him is still capable of thought of any kind. Why would Father ever allow the curse to fall on someone like Dean? How was he supposed to stop this monster? 

A small internal alarm goes off in Seraphiel’s chest and his senses fling themselves out and away from the room they’re all in and focus in on the faint light of a human bustling around the edges of the bunker. A moment later he feels the wards kick back into place and he curses the redheaded woman he knows is the culprit of this trap. 

Seraphiel looks back up at Dean and sees the red and blue crackling around the Winchester like a second skin of power and rage and strength. The archangel can’t run now, the wards are keeping him in. He can’t kill Cain, he can’t even kill Dean like he’d wanted. He’s running out of options and fast. 

Castiel twitches on the floor several feet away and Seraphiel is moving in the direction of his fallen brother within a fraction of a second. He can feel Dean moving with him, but the human can’t keep up. Seraphiel curls his fingers around Castiel’s neck and pulls the limp body into his chest, the angel blade in his other hand coming to rest with the tip against Castiel’s rib cage. One plunge of the blade and it will pierce Castiel’s heart and grace, or what’s left of it. 

“You will let me out, you will tell that bitch of yours to drop the warding and let me go,” Seraphiel demands. 

“You’ll be back for him. We’d be fools to let you leave,” Crowley replies without a trace of concern in his voice. Dean, on the other hand, is vibrating with more than just the powers flowing through him. His eyes have gained some amount of lucidity that Seraphiel can see even through the light show that is encompassing the man. Once again Seraphiel marvels at Dean’s ability to function. Flickering eyes meet his and Seraphiel swallows harshly and tries in vain to push down his terror. Dean Winchester may be the boogie under the supernatural world’s bed, but Seraphiel is a divine being of heaven. He will not be defeated by the likes of him. However, his options are running low. 

Seraphiel’s eyes catch Gabriel’s next, and the other archangel is looking worse for wear. He’s slumped on the ground and watching the scene unfold with a glassy gaze. Seraphiel can see Gabriel’s grace inside Dean as well, fighting with the volcano that is the mark. He won’t win. Dean won’t win, and why can’t they just see that? 

A thought occurs to Seraphiel and his hand tightens around Castiel’s neck. Perhaps if he kills Castiel now it will be enough to weaken Dean that he can get the upper hand. With Castiel out of the picture, Gabriel would fall to the mark even faster and Seraphiel wouldn’t be fighting another archangel. Only a demon, or rather the knight of hell. He’s gone up against worse odds and retreat is no longer an option for him. He will go down fighting and following his God-given orders. 

Seraphiel’s hand tightens around the angel blade and he moves to impale the body of his brother but is stopped by strong hands on his neck pulling him back and away from Castiel. Seraphiel stumbles from surprise and turns to swipe at whoever dares touch him. The vampire, and when had that beast woken back up, dances out of reach with a cocky smirk. Before he can get his bearings Seraphiel is sent careening into the wall beside him by Dean’s weight. The man’s blazing hot body burning where it touches Seraphiel’s vessel. Seraphiel flings his arm back to stab at the attacking human but his wrist is caught in an iron hold and he screams as the joint is snapped in two.

Dean barely even hears the sounds coming from Seraphiel and doesn’t process the curses or pleading. Dean is consumed by the need to protect Castiel and his family. He can still feel the tether of Castiel’s failing grace and the support of Gabriel’s grace, they’re the only thing keeping him from burning to a crisp. He can’t let this intruder rip that from them. From him. He’s lost enough, hasn’t he? Dean brings his fists down across Seraphiel’s face and revels in the blood dripping from a scrape high on the angel’s cheekbone. 

Dean spins his own angel blade in his hand, ready to end the threat to his family, but his attention is caught by the familiar flicker of blue power inside of Seraphiel. The mark quells inside him as a thought occurs to Dean and he smirks viciously at the reaction. The mark works even harder to get rid of the help the angels are trying to extend to Dean’s soul by burning up their grace. Dean’s body is starting to feel less and less real and more like a dream. 

Seraphiel looks at the room around him in dawning horror and understanding, in a fashion that Dean is all too empathetic with. The panicked archangel looks up into Dean’s blue lightning eyes and shivers in horror. What had he done? How had he ever thought he could stand up to the force of Cain? 

Dean smiles as he shoves his fist through Seraphiel’s chest, feeling ribs give way and blood drip down his arm without a care. Dean fishes around until he feels what he’s looking for, and closes his fingers around the pulsing power of Seraphiel’s grace. He yanks on the ball of power and watches in satisfaction as Seraphiel’s eyes widen before going completely blank and misty. Dean lets the body fall to the ground and he looks at the lightning cradled between his bloody fingers. 

The mark screams inside him and Dean doesn’t hesitate to slam his hand flat against his own chest, pushing the captured grace inside. He uses all his remaining strength to will the pulsing orb into the knot of violence and desperation that he knows to be the mark. 

His arm, the one bearing the symbol of the curse, cramps and burns hotter than he thought possible and Dean watches in fascination and detachment as the symbol on his skin glows a red deeper than blood and brighter than heaven. He grits his teeth as the foreign grace inside him fights to get away. Dean forces it further into the mark, pushing with everything he is. This is his last chance to save Castiel and Gabriel. He can’t fail. He has to stop the mark, or at least distract it so his angels have a fighting chance.

The mark turns its attention to the new attack and tries to pull at the power as it did earlier, but there’s too much. It’s weakened already by the effort to deal with the combined power of Castiel and Gabriel, with the new addition of pure power from Seraphiel’s grace it’s quickly overwhelmed. Seraphiel’s grace blinks in and out of existence as it fights with the mark. It gives the bonds that Dean can feel between Gabriel and Castiel the time to finally reach the man’s soul. 

Dean smiles as he feels the tenuous connection that clicks into place. He encourages the angels’ graces to tie themselves to him. He sends bursts of his own energy back to the angels in an apology and desperate hope to fix what he’d nearly broken. Or what the mark had nearly broken at least. He’s not sure what he’s doing or how he knows to do it, but it feels right.

Seraphiel’s grace winks out of existence for the last time and the mark shines bright with victory for one long second. Then reality catches up to the curse and the mark tries to tear away at the bonds between Dean and the angels but the connection is too strong and gaining strength by the second. The mark screams and Dean winces at the echo that tears at his mind. 

He tastes blood and death and has the overwhelming desire to tear into something or someone else. His body shakes with the need for violence and the need to deal out as much pain as he’s experiencing himself. In some part of himself, he’s aware that it’s the mark, a last chance attempt at pulling Dean in. There’s a tug on his soul and then he can feel Cas’s grace brushing up against his mind and helping soothe the ache. 

The mark thrashes and then Dean’s seeing himself holding a bloody blade. He’s looking at his past even though he’s too far gone to remember specifics. He sees dead bodies around him and feels the bone-deep, but not soul-deep, contentedness of violence. 

Dean watches himself tear vampires and leviathan apart in purgatory and wants that back. Wants to stop worrying about the mark and giving in, wants to return to a place where survival was everything. Survival is what he’s good at. The visions go on for what feels like years and eons. It’s a moment that just stretches across all of his awareness, vision upon visions of violence and blood and terror. His stomach swoops in both yearning and disgust. 

Gabriel adds his presence to Castiel’s and Dean shakes his head, trying to focus on his family instead of the inherent desire for violence inside him, something that is only made worse with the mark. He’s always had blood thirst in him, he knows this, he’s come to terms with it. But the mark wants that part of him and he’ll be damned if he lets it in. Literally.

He made a promise to Sam and Cas. Gabe and Charlie. Everyone. He can’t let the mark win because if it does, he knows the others won’t fight him, will let him kill them. Not that they could stop him if they tried. Dean’s an unstoppable force on a regular day and with the mark, he’d be completely unbeatable. 

He pushes the mark back down and into his arm, keeping it away from the glow of his soul, something that he’s just starting to recognize as a part of himself. The red spreads further across his vision leaving him blind and squinting but he continues to push. The mark claws at everything it can reach and Dean has never felt pain this deep, didn’t know it could get this far into his being. 

He keeps pushing it down and away, back into his arm and away from his angels and family. Dean finds himself at the mercy of the cold presence of grace that runs through him, trying to soothe the burns of the mark but creating their own pain along the way. Dean doesn’t remember existence away from pain anymore.

The others watch as Dean begins to twitch and seize in place on the floor. Gabriel and Castiel are both too weak to stand and hold the man down and the others can’t get close enough without being shocked by the lightning surrounding Dean. 

Dean’s jaw pops open and a scream rips out of his throat that has everyone wincing and holding their ears. They can't look away even as Dean’s eyes glow brighter than blue with a tinge of red and he continues to scream. 

No one notices the small black presence ambling over to Dean until it’s too late. The hell kitten jumps up onto Dean’s chest and settles down, seemingly unaffected by the lightning. 

Dean searches for anything to anchor himself on. His angels are as far gone as he is, he can feel them clinging to each other through their bond, just as he can feel himself slipping away. He can’t tell what’s the physical world and what’s the pain of the war waging inside him. He can’t tell if the scream he hears is real or another manifestation of the mark trying to plead with him. 

A vibration in his chest draws him away from the pain and back to his own physicality. He can’t see anything but he can tell there’s a slight weight resting on him. He blinks ineffectually and fails to raise a hand up to his chest. The vibration grows stronger and Dean belatedly recognizes the sensation as one he felt earlier in the hallways. 

Dean is suddenly just so exhausted. He doesn’t know what’s happening, not really. He woke up in the garage with Charlie’s voice in his head and a kitten following him around. He knows that Castiel and Gabriel are inside him now in a way he can’t describe nonetheless understand. He sighs and the scream echoing around his mind slowly abates. He wonders if that’s him. Or was him. He can feel the hum of movement through every atom of his body and remembers the purring of a kitten in his hands. 

He wants to roll his eyes at the bizarreness of this all but his muscles are beyond his control now. He’s forced his way through too much pain in the last hours. He’s pushed his mind and soul through too much. He thinks of Castiel and Charlie before the pain slowly bleeds away in the face of the vibrations of his chest and the push of grace inside him. He doesn’t feel anything else but knows that he’s still alive. It’s a relieving numbness that doesn’t last long before his mind shuts off too. 

Benny is the first to reach Dean after the screams taper out. The man’s eyes are open for a few more moments after that and then Dean’s body goes limp. Benny’s hands shift over the muscled body before him in an effort to find any hidden injuries, but he can’t find any blood. His senses tell him the same thing, no fresh blood. But Benny can’t fix a wound he can’t see and he continues to search for something, anything, that he can help with. 

The kitten watches him with an air of unimpressed judgment, and really how is such a small thing so emotive? Benny doesn’t dare try and push it away but the animal also doesn’t try to stop Benny from pawing at Dean. He figures it’s an impasse he can work with. 

“Dean?” Benny asks though he doesn’t expect a response. “Dean, you okay, buddy? Brother?” 

Benny catches the shine of light on dark red hair from the corner of his eye and turns to see Charlie kneel on the floor next to him. Her eyes move between the three bodies of Castiel, Gabriel, and Dean. She looks shaken to the core and Benny places one of his hands on her shoulder. She looks at him with a sad smile but doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s okay,” Kevin’s voice interrupts them. They look up to see the prophet once again standing next to Crowley. Benny can smell the faint presence of sulfur and smoke and knows Crowley must have gone and retrieved the boy from wherever it was he’d stashed him during the fight. “I can see them, their bond now. It’s beautiful. It’s going to be okay.” Benny feels like the sentence is undermined slightly by the blood covering Kevin’s chest but the words do calm him. Dean will live through this just like he lives through everything else. If he doesn’t, Benny knows how to find him again and drag him back into the land of the living, and he knows the other strangers in this bunker will be right there with him. 

 


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up.

Gabriel sits down on the barstool at the kitchen island with a deep heartfelt sigh. Dean is stabilized and Castiel is newly awake. He can feel his own grace humming happily away along with Castiel’s. He can feel Dean’s soul forever tethered to his own.

The rest of the family watches as Castiel takes another seat at the kitchen table. Crowley, Charlie, Kevin, and Benny are all sprawled out across the first floor of the house. They quickly converge on the kitchen table and the angels take matching deep breaths to brace themselves. Castiel had just woken up but Gabriel can’t blame them all for their need for answers. He’d been watching over his brother and Dean for several hours now while they were all down here stewing in worries.

“What happened?” Charlie asks.

“ _Dean_ happened,” Gabriel responds.

“But, really…”

“I don’t know. Dean reached into Seph and pulled out his grace with his _bare hand_.”

“How is that possible?” Kevin asks with a furrow to his brow.

“How should I know? It shouldn’t be!”

“It must have something to do with the unique overlap of powers at Dean’s disposal,” Castiel says, his eyes on the ceiling as he talks. He can feel Dean through their bond now and knows that the human is fine and deeply asleep, but he hates being away from his baby boy.

“Because he’s a knight of hell and an angel bonded and the victim of the oldest curse of history?” Benny summarizes, finally having been caught up on what’s happening.

“Don’t forget he’s a Winchester,” Crowley adds. “It shouldn’t have happened, but really none of this should have. Dean is undergoing a rare process under very specific and risky set of circumstances. We had no idea what would happen moving forward so this is just that. Us having no idea what we’re doing. Just be glad that Dean managed to pull it off.”

“But what did he do?” Kevin asks in frustration.

Castiel clears his throat and finally looks at the gathering around him. “He used Seraphiel’s grace to combat the mark so that Gabriel and I could fully bond with him. Without that the mark would have beaten us. I think Seraphiel’s grace also kickstarted my own grace’s recovery. I can’t say that I’m happy that Seraphiel was used in such a way, but also…”

“It’s okay to be thankful that Dean is still with us, Cassie,” Gabriel says softly. He also shares an immense sense of guilt over their brother’s death. But there was no talking Seraphiel out of it. And in some sick sense of poetry and fate, Seraphiel did still help combat the mark. Just not in the way he’d wanted.

“Okay, fine. So this is just another thing to add to the impossible things the Winchesters have pulled off, but what about Dean?” Charlie insists.

“I can feel him,” Gabriel says with awe. His eyes are glittering with something when he looks at his brother and Castiel smiles. Castiel sends warm waves of gratitude and appreciation through his grace to his brother’s and watches in amusement as the archangel blushes and looks away.

“And he’s okay?” Crowley asks his eyes flat and demanding answers from them.

Castiel sobers and answers, “As far as we can tell, but I can’t see his mind when he’s asleep like this. I can feel his soul and it’s shining healthily, but for the rest of him…”

“So we have no idea if he’s gonna be big or little when he wakes up,” Kevin states.

There’s a long pause as they all come to terms with the possibility. The silence is broken by Charlie as she exclaims, “I’m sorry! It’s my fault and if I hadn’t--”

“No, Charlie. What you did saved him. And us.” Gabriel’s eyes are uncharacteristically serious and somber when he looks Charlie in the eye. “If Dean wakes up and he’s still stuck in his grown-up mindset then we’ll figure it out. But you’re quick thinking was what gave Dean the ability to fight back.”

Any words Charlie had in response to that are cut off when both Castiel and Gabriel sit bolt right up in there seats and swing their heads around to the staircase. In the next breathe both angels are gone, having flown up to the bedroom where Dean is waking up.

Dean floats in the warm embrace of not quite sleep, not willing to fully wake up yet. There’s something he can’t remember teasing at the edges of his mind and it feels dark and foreboding. He pushes it away and doesn’t try to remember, completely content to exist in this moment of suspended comfort.

He curls up further into the soft texture of his blankets and breathes in the smell of lilac and caramel. It feels like home and that makes something in Dean’s chest crack open and leaves him mentally reeling as emotions he doesn’t understand start flooding him. He clings to something for stability, desperate to escape the whirlwind of unnamed emotions spiraling out from that crack, and finds two solid threads of _something_ in his mind and his chest. Through his whole body really. He pulls on one and feels amusement and relief and love that isn’t his own. He pulls on the other and feels something similar.

“Daddy?” Dean murmurs into his pillow. It comes out mostly as a groan but Dean can feel a flicker of recognition and joy pulse through the second of those threads he found. “Dada?” Another flicker of gratitude and love from the other one.

Dean forces his eyes all the way open and sees both Castiel and Gabriel sitting on the edge of his bed. Both of them are wearing large grins and Dean can’t help but match their smiles. Good morning, baby boy,” Castiel says softly as he reaches forward to tug the blankets a little farther down so he can see his boy’s face properly. “How do you feel?”

Dean rolls over closer to his angels and groans in discomfort when the movement causes aches and pains all throughout his body to spring to life. “Sore.” Dean pouts at the ceiling and gives up on moving.

Gabriel laughs and tucks a plush dragon under Dean’s left arm and says, “Could be worse, Deano. How about we make some breakfast and then you can help me make some apple pies?”

Dean brightens and looks over at Gabriel with round eyes. “Apple pie?”

Castiel helps Dean sit up and Dean can feel the constant hum of love coming from both his daddy and his dada. It warms his chest and something deep inside him sighs out in relief and lets go. Dean smiles wide and revels in the feeling of being loved. He still has a distinct feeling that he’s forgotten something important, but really what does it matter?

He snuggles into Castiel’s arms and pulls fondly and curiously at the bond between them, enthralled by the responsiveness of Castiel’s emotions to his own. He doesn’t understand it and he doesn’t care.

Dean Winchester smiles and burrows into his angel’s arms while Gabriel starts coming up with more and more ridiculous ideas for apple pie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And ta-da! It's the end!   
> Six chapters!   
> Hope it was worth the ridiculously long wait times. Only a couple more parts in the series before the Begin Again Bunker Family Narrative will reach its conclusion!!   
> Let me know what you thought of this part, and sorry for all the last minute changes.

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Hope you liked it, hope you'll be coming back for the coming updates. :)   
> Check out my other works if you liked this. I've got a very long and involved chaptered fic for the Shadowhunters Universe (Cassandra Clare) titled The Frayed Truth.   
> Also, I've just started a tumblr page for my work, hoping to create a more interactive space for my readers. If you have any ideas or requests you can comment or send me a message on there. It's the same as my user name for here: 100percentfluffster
> 
> ps: if any y'all know how to make a link in these notes please let me know! I'm struggling!!   
> Thanks


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